Steel and Fire
by VioletWilson
Summary: Caught in the crossfire between two warring crime families, Ana Steele is taken prisoner by the Grey family as collateral for a stolen painting. But a missing Rembrandt is the least of Ana's worries as she tries to balance between her duty to save her family and the love of a controlling art thief with a secret that could tear them all apart.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One.**

Kate was late.

Normally, this would be a fairly unremarkable fact. Kate's business dealings often ran late, so Ana was used to settling down wherever the two had agreed to meet with a paperback. She didn't really mind being by herself, which was ironic, she thought, given how little alone time she truly had since Ethan had taken to following her every time she left the house.

Right now, he was leaning casually against the coffee shop wall as he scrolled through his phone, pretending not to notice her. But he was not as bored as he seemed, he was paying an immense amount of attention to what was going on in the coffee shop, his eyes alert for any sign of danger. Ana could see the tenseness in his shoulders and arms and the way his eyes continually flashed up to look at her, as if to check to be sure that she was still there.

But then agin, they were all a bit tense since the war had been declared.

Ana checked her phone yet again for a text or a missed call or an email, anything, really, that would let her know that Kate was okay. The only notification on her phone was a day old voicemail alert in the form of an angry red dot next to the name "Jose Rodriguez". Ana still hadn't listened to it. She wasn't ready to open it and have more drama rained over her head. No, Jose could wait.

Ana sighed and put the phone back down on the table next to her abandoned paperback and increasingly cold tea, impatient. Her eyes drifted over to Ethan at the same moment that he looked up at her, and they shared a glance of mutual concern and agitation.

Evidently, the meeting between the Kavanaghs and the Greys was running overtime. What did that mean? Was that a good sign? Ana refused to consider the alternative.

She thought of the Greys in all their stately glory, a crime family so organized and ruthless that it was rumored they owned half the art cartels in Europe. But that wasn't what Ana pictured when she pictured the Grey family. She saw a beautiful summer home off the ocean, a kindly mother figure, and handsome and serious father, and three children- her friends, her childhood companions. They had been so young, and it had been so long since Ana had seen them.

She wondered if she would ever get to again, now that the rift between the Kavanaghs and the Greys had torn that friendship in two.

Ethan came and sat down at Ana's little table, breaking his usual policy of giving her as much distance as he felt was safe. He nudged her book and tea aside.

"I don't think we should stay here, Ana. Whatever Kate is doing, I don't think we should linger on Grey territory until we get this feud sorted out," he said grimly.

Ana sighed.

"I don't see why I have to get caught up in all this. I'm not even a Kavanagh."

Ethan looked affronted, and began to roll out his customary Ana-is-part-of-our-family speech. "Ana, you're as much my sister as Kate is and you have been for ten years now. You have been since you came to live with us after your parents died-"

"Oh, stop it, Ethan. You know what I mean."

"Just because your last name is Steel doesn't mean you're not a part of the family," Ethan insisted. He could be a real pain, but his heart was in a good place.

"Yeah, well could you remind your parents of that?" Ana said, half joking.

Ethan saw straight to the heart of the matter in an instant. "Mom's bitter, and dad's an ass. You knew that. You're worth twice as much as all of us."

"Don't say that," Ana said, frowning. Privately, Ana felt that Kate and Ethan and had so much more to offer the family than she ever could that it was normal that their parents would just be less interested in Ana. Kate and Ethan were both natural leaders, athletic, good speakers, and not to mention incredibly attractive.

In comparison, Ana just felt drab. No wonder she was the runt of the family. She had never bought and sold artwork. She didn't know the first thing about international business, let alone high-class theft.

Ana gingerly picked up her paperback and set it back in her bag.

"I don't even know why the Greys came back here," Ethan said irritably, standing up and stretching out his long muscular limbs. "They usually keep to themselves outside of Chicago. Why suddenly move back to Seattle?"

"Probably just to annoy you," teased Ana, grinning at him to push the negative thoughts in her mind out of view. She was rewarded with one of Ethan's breathtaking grins, and she couldn't help but smile.

She stood up, and together they walked out into the cool autumn air of Seattle. A black Audi pulled smoothly up next to the curb, and Kate stepped out with her usual air of sex appeal and ruthlessness. Ana felt a rush of relief so intense that she wanted to cry.

"Kate! You're okay!" Ana squeaked, running to embrace her sister and friend. Kate crushed Ana to her body in a vice-like grip, holding her as if she had been gone for years instead of hours. Finally, Kate let go and held Ana at arm's length, scrutinizing her with both hands on her shoulders.

"You're okay?" Kate asked, a look of concern in her eyes that Ana didn't understand. "Nothing happen while I was gone?"

"Me? Who cares about me! How are you? What happened?" Ana said breathlessly, relief making her giddy.

Kate threw her brother a quick look, and subtly shook her head. Ethan frowned.

"Come on, let's go home. No one followed me, I'm sure."

Ethan gave his sister a brief nod and climbed on the back of his motorcycle. Ana rolled her eyes. He loved that thing.

She climbed into Kate's Audi, and as the door shut Kate pulled smoothly away from the curb and onto the highway. Her smile was tight.

"Jeez, what happened to you over at the Grey mansion? Did you step on a loose pile of money and trip?" Ana joked, trying to lighten the tension. She couldn't negotiate the peace like Kate was trying to do, but Ana sure as hell could try and cheer her friend up.

"I don't know how we're going to work this one out, Ana," was all Kate said.

Ana's smile faltered. "Are they still pissed about the Rembrandt?"

"There's more. Dad underestimated how much the Hyde business cost him. There's no way we'll be able to afford the reparation money now, and if the debt goes unsettled, it could revert to blood."

The words hung heavy in the air, and neither of the two said anything for a moment. She thought of her adopted family, cold though they could sometimes be, and paled at the thought of any one of them injured or hurt. They were all she had.

Ana cut her thoughts off, asking, "Well, how are we doing on locating the Rembrandt?"

Kate groaned. "Poorly. You know how slow the Claytons can be. God, I could kill them. It's their fault that they didn't do their research before they did the operation, if they had just checked their facts before they stole from the damn Greys…"

Kate looked stressed. Really stressed. She ran a hand through her long hair and chewed on the inside of her check, her eyes locked on the road in front of her. Ana felt helpless to ease the suffering in Kate's eyes. She felt a familiar restless tug in her chest, a longing to do something, _anything_.

Kate continued, "And damn that Christian Grey, he's the worst one of all. I like doing work with Grace, hell, even Carrick's not that bad when you make sure his scotch glass is full, but Christian is the devil incarnate when he's pissed."

Ana's ears perked up as her most recent memory of Christian Grey pressed unbidden into her consciousness. A few years ago, in less turbulent times, the Kavanagh clan held a grand ball at the family estate, and the Greys had been invited.

Ana had been standing next to Jose, sipping some champagne and making dull chatter with business partners and family friends, counting down the minutes until she could climb out of her tight dress and into her bed above the garage.

She had looked across the ballroom at the grandfather clock and been startled to see Christian Grey staring back at her, his eyes blazing. He looked like he wanted to consume her or light her on fire or rip off her clothes, possibly all of the above. Ana had frozen on the spot and stared back at him, confused and angry and inexplicably turned on. It was like all the nerves in her body had suddenly woken up, agitating her almost to pain.

Jose had said something to her then, or maybe Ethan had asked her to dance, but by the time she looked back, Christian had gone.

As children, Christian and Ana had been inseparable, but evidently that friendship had evaporated as they had grown up. And _he_ certainly had grown from the scrawny kid she had played with on the beach. Now he was tall and dark and chiseled, and obviously passionate, given the way he had stared at Ana like he wanted to burn her to a crisp.

Ana wondered what she had done to ignite his famous temper, but nothing came to mind. She assumed he was just angry that she belonged to the Kavanaghs now.

Kate was talking again, dragging Ana back to the present.

"I don't know what that guy's deal is. It's like he's got some personal vendetta this time. I can't figure out his motive. The man doesn't even _like_ Rembrandt," she snapped.

"Well, then maybe he won't be too disappointed if we can't find it," Ana suggested in a faux chipper voice that made even Kate laugh a little bit.

They pulled up to the Kavanagh estate, with its red brick buildings and stately colonial façade, sliding past the ten foot tall wall surrounding all 30 acres of the place. It had been in the family for years, and although it had fallen into disrepair in the last generation, it was still an imposing collection of houses and service buildings.

Kate was a million miles away, numbers and information no doubt rattling around in her mind, and she only came back to earth when she opened the garage door and pulled the Audi into its spot in the warm garage.

Ana, thinking that Kate might like some time alone to process, got out of the car and made to walk over to the wooden stairs that led up to her room above the garage. She didn't mind sleeping there- it was quiet most of the time, and it was sheltered from the prying eyes of the servants and family members who seemed to continually prowl around the main house. Plus, it was large enough to fit all of her books.

But Kate, unexpectedly grabbing Ana's hand, stopped her. Ethan pulled his helmet off in the space next to them and looked on quizzically. Kate wasn't a particularly emotional person, and she rarely expressed feelings physically, but this was twice in one night that Kate had reached out to Ana. Something was up.

Kate was staring at her, a slightly panicked look on her face.

"What is it?" Ana breathed.

Kate bit her cheek again. "Would you sleep in my room tonight?"

Ana's eyes widened and Ethan let out a sharp breath.

"Are you sure?" Ana asked, floored by this request. Even when they were kids, Kate hadn't been into sleepovers, and Ana had never slept in the main house in her life.

"Yeah," Kate said in a cheerful voice, "I just feel like having a girls night, you know? Things have been pretty tense around here lately, I could use some time with you."

Kate paused and then spoke again, but this time her voice was slightly quieter and more halting. "I would just feel better if you were with me."

Ana wrapped her arms around Kate's neck. Of course Kate wanted a friend nearby, she was probably way overwhelmed with all this negotiation. Kate was risking her life every day- it was natural that she would feel some fear, and Ana was just happy to finally have something to do to help her friend out.

"Of course I will. Let me go grab some stuff from my room and I'll meet you in the house."

Kate shook her head. "We'll wait."

"It'll take minute, are you sure?"

"No trouble, ace," Ethan insisted. Ana smiled at Ethan's favorite nickname for her.

Ana climbed up the rickety wooden stairs to her room, which was a long space just under the roof whose ceilings sloped down on either side, giving the whole space the air of a large wooden tent. Ana had hung the low ceiling with Christmas lights and lanterns, which gave the otherwise claustrophobic space a homey air. Her books lined the edges of the floor in neat stacks, organized by genre and date.

Ana pulled open her dresser drawers and yanked out a pair of pajamas and a change of clothes for tomorrow morning, throwing them into an old grocery tote that she used to carry her library books when she went into town. She tossed in a battered copy of Tess, her phone charger, and her toothbrush, and she climbed down the staircase again, ducking her head so she didn't hit it on the ceiling on her way down.

Ethan and Kate were deep in conversation, murmuring heatedly to each other in low tones. Ana paused mid-step to look at their dear faces, so serious and tense in the stark light of the hanging garage lights. She thought about how much they had done for her, and how much she loved them. They were the only family she had. She wished desperately that she could help somehow.

Kate and Ethan noticed her watching them and abruptly broke their conversation off, but Ana was used to that. She was largely excluded from the family business, since she had no background in it, and obviously Kate and Ethan couldn't go discussing private matters with a third party. Ana knew better than to ask what they had been talking about.

She clattered down to the last step, and Kate gave her a big smile. Ethan was clenching his fists and avoiding Ana's gaze.

_Uh oh. _

"I'm going to go talk to father," he said grimly, and Ana gave his arm a little squeeze. When he finally met her eyes, Ethan looked miserable.

"It'll be okay, Ethan," Ana murmured. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he pulled away from her to walk resolutely up the dark driveway and up to the big house alone.

XX

_Hello and welcome to the first chapter of this story! I hope you'll enjoy it! _

_I would be curious to know if you'd like chapters from Christian's point of view, or if you'd rather it just be Ana? I'm not sure which way to go. _

_-V_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two.**

"So what about going back to school?" Ana asked, tugging a pillow under her chest so that her upper body was propped up against the mass of pillows and comforters on Kate's four poster bed.

Kate frowned and ran a hand through her hair.

She said, "I'd like to go back, but last time it was so hard to be away from the business. It sort of seemed to follow me, you know?"

Ana nodded, because she did know what it was like. She didn't think the fear of discovery and the FBI would ever quite leave her.

"What about you? Are you thinking of school?" Kate asked.

Ana felt herself blush. "The minute I have enough money saved up, you know I'll go."

Kate shook her head against the wood headboard, pulling her down comforter tighter around her.

"I wish you'd let me give you the money, Ana. It could just be a loan if you wanted."

"No, I'd really like to do this myself," Ana insisted. They'd had this conversation before.

Ana couldn't accept money from Kate- not when she had done so much for her already. It would be better for Ana to pay her own way. And she did have _some_ money saved up in her checking account, a steady trickle of income from her job at the bookstore. It was stacking up, slowly but surely.

Kate nodded and began to massage her temples in a slow, rhythmic movement as she closed her eyes.

Ana murmured, "Hey, what happened to you today? That meeting seemed to have really shaken you up."

"The Greys are just so much stronger than us, and the Clayton's can't find that painting… and I don't know…" Kate trailed off, anxiety edging in on her high musical voice.

"Whatever happens, we can face it together," Ana declared, and immediately felt a little naïve. But it seemed important to make a gesture of solidarity, even if it did come off sounding a bit like a cat poster.

Kate screwed her eyes shut even tighter and hesitated before she spoke. Her words seemed to come out unbidden.

"They want something from us that I would never give them."

"What do they want?" Ana whispered.

She imagined a list of their agents and dealers, or the deed to the house, or the keys to the private collection, or any number of incredibly valuable objects connected to the Kavanaghs.

Kate opened her eyes and looked intensely at Ana, a raw exhaustion searing into her. Ana was taken aback by how upset she looked, and her concern deepened. She had the feeling that Kate was sending out a call for help.

"You know I can't tell you the details, Ace."

"Let me help you," Ana whispered, sitting up and moving closer to Kate so that their heads were almost touching. "I know I'm not supposed to interfere, but if there's anything I can do, you know I would do it. I want to help the family."

"No," Kate said emphatically, eyes blazing. "No, under no circumstances should you try to get involved in this, Ana. What you can do is to stick close to the house for a few days while we get this sorted out. Don't leave the estate. You're not safe."

"But we're still in negotiation. There's no feud yet. Why would they go after Kavanagh family members?"

Business dealings in the art world were long and painstakingly regimented. At worst, this meant that accomplishing anything took ages, but on the plus side, it meant that the process of declaring war was predictable, and the timetable was rigorously honored.

Formal declaration first, bloodshed immediately after. But not before.

Kate had a look in her eyes that Ana recognized- she was hiding something.

"Kate, what aren't you telling me?"

She just shook her head. "Official secrets."

Ana sighed and pulled away.

"Did you ask me to sleep in your room so you could annoy me?" Ana asked peevishly.

"I have to protect you," Kate whispered.

"You and Ethan are ridiculous," Ana said. "I'm not made of glass. I'm not even that interesting."

"You're important, Ana." Kate was looking down at her fingers, her shoulders tensed.

"I'm important to _you_, not to the Greys. You don't have to worry about me," Ana said reassuringly.

Kate's lower lip trembled and she looked at Ana. Oh no, was Kate going to cry? Stone cold Kate on the verge of tears? Oh boy, whatever the Greys wanted, it was really serious. Ana had no idea what to do. Kate never cried.

Oh, this was so confusing.

"I'm going to go get you some tea," Ana said hastily, all but jumping out of bed. _Yes, tea might help. I can make tea. _

Kate looked like she wanted to object, but Ana was already out the door and scurrying down the padded staircase to the grand foyer. She paused and leaned against the wall next to the kitchen door, catching her breath, and over the thumping of her heartbeat and the blood in her ears, Ana assessed her feelings.

She was anxious for Kate, most of all. She was angry at the Kavanaghs for putting her sister in the situation of having to negotiate for the whole family on the biggest fallout of the year. Even so, Ana knew why Kate had been allotted the task.

Margeaux Kavanagh, the family matriarch, was no negotiator, she was too blunt and aggressive. Her husband Rick spent most of his time in Europe dealing with their overseas operation, so he wasn't as familiar with the home turf operation, although Ana heard rumors that he was on his way back to America. And Ethan-

Ana had to pause her thoughts then, because at that moment she became aware that she could actually hear her brother's voice one room over in the kitchen. He was talking to someone, and he was angry. Ana held very still next to the open door, listening.

"Kate did her job," Ethan hissed. "She went over there prepared to play ball, you couldn't expect her to accept terms like-"

Margeaux's cold voice interrupted him. "She should have spoken to us about it before she wrote it off completely. The Greys are obviously motivated, so we have all the power in this situation. We could have bargained effectively if she hadn't gone and pissed him off."

Ethan spoke with a controlled fury. "Can you blame her for being angry? He was asking for a human life as a trade, mother. That's not something she wanted on her conscience. Let alone when it's-"

"I know, go ahead and make me the bad guy in this situation, but the way I see it, it's just good business sense. You can argue with me all you want, but I would rather see it pan out with a _minimum_ of bloodshed, Ethan, and Christian's proposal solves our problems."

"You're so quick to throw your own daughter under the bus like that, mother?"

There was the sound of something heavy hitting the counter, and Margeaux snapped, "I know Kate was trying her best, Ethan, but I have to be practical."

"I wasn't talking about Kate," Ethan growled.

There was a long silence.

Ethan finally muttered, "I see how it is."

Margeaux spoke again, but in a quieter, softer voice. "You know I love Ana, Ethan."

"You have a piss poor way of showing it."

"I would never have agreed to handing Ana over while we paid the debt back. You know that," Margeaux insisted.

Ana held her breath as her the color drained from her face.

"You seemed pretty keen on it a few seconds ago," Ethan said.

"I wasn't agreeing to let them _have_ her, I was saying that if Kate hadn't thrown the idea entirely off the table we could have used their plan to our advantage and worked something out."

"I don't want any plan that involves Ana going to live with those psychos to 'work out'."

Margeaux made an impatient noise. "I have said that's not what we're doing. Let it go."

"Yeah, well, I can't let it go just yet," Ethan murmured sullenly. "I don't trust that Christian Grey. Something about this is personal."

"Is that why you've been following Ana around like a lost puppy?" Margeaux said smugly.

"Because I care about her well-being, you mean? Because I don't want her to end up sold into slavery because of some stupid feud that has nothing to do with her? Is that what you meant?" Ethan hissed, and Ana could tell that he was mad, really mad at his mother.

"Slavery is putting it a bit dramatically," Margeaux said irritably.

The fridge opened. Someone pried the cap off a beer and drank from it.

"It doesn't matter. We'll figure something out," Ethan sighed.

"But what, Ethan? I don't know how we're going to swing this around before someone gets killed for it."

Ana had heard enough. She turned and padded silently away, a numb shock moving her feet across the carpet of the main house and out onto the front porch and then, as if out of habit, down the gravel driveway and out to the little garden next to the estate wall.

She didn't see anything or hear anything, she felt like a robot. All she knew was that she couldn't face Ethan or Kate yet. And Margeaux. The only mother she had. Ouch.

_One foot in front of the other, Ana. We can do this. _

Ana sat down on one of the cement benches and put her head in her hands, breathing deeply.

A few things were suddenly starting to make sense. The Greys had asked for Ana as some kind of human collateral for the Kavanagh's debt. Kate had said no. Those were facts. She understood that completely. The rest of it was fuzzier.

Kate had said that Christian Grey seemed personally motivated in this case. To be sure the painting was incredibly valuable, so Ana guessed that was probably the cause of Christian's intensity. Or maybe he had something at stake in this game. His reputation? He was an intense guy, either way.

Kate and Ethan had vetoed the idea right away. Had that been wise? Could they afford to turn this opportunity down? Margeaux had said that people would die before they could pay it back, and Ana had the impression that the Greys weren't the types to relax their policies to spare life.

And how had the Claytons, loyal Kavanagh subsidiaries, managed to _lose_ a painting they had stolen? That didn't make sense. The Claytons kept good books. There were records of these dealings, and it had just vanished?

Ana also didn't understand what the Greys were thinking when they asked for her specifically. She was nobody. The Kavanaghs didn't even really like her, except for Ethan and Kate. If Ana had been Christian Grey, she would have asked for Kate as collateral. She was more valuable.

Ana wondered if the Greys had overestimated how much Margeaux and Rick cared about her, or if they just preferred a member of the family who had no ability in the crime business.

Margeaux had seemed amenable to the deal. She was prepared to hand Ana over to save her own skin. Ana felt her whole body flush in a glow of anger. But she knew that wasn't entirely fair. Margeaux had said she wouldn't have agreed to actually giving her over when push came to shove, and Ana knew that she was trying to protect her family from being gunned down on the street.

But it still stung. It stung even more to know that her coldness was calculated and, in a lot of ways, correct. It did make sense to go to them, even if it would hurt. Kate and Ethan might object, but their parents wouldn't.

Well, it didn't matter if Margeaux was cold. Nothing mattered except the fact that Ana finally could do something to help her family. This was it. This was her chance. She could buy Kate some time, maybe even get some inside information and find a way to send it back.

Ana rose to her feet, full of a sense of purpose, but then stopped, because she had no idea how to do something like this. Was there some kind of paperwork? "Human Collateral for a Stolen Painting Application"?

Should she just…call him? Was it that simple? She had his phone number written down somewhere in her room, she could find it and then give him a ring. She decided that, yes, she would call him and tell him…tell him what? Tell him that she knew about his proposal, and that she agreed on the condition that Kate and Ethan couldn't know? That seemed right.

As if on cue, Ana heard Kate's voice calling her name.

"Ana, come inside! Ana? Ana!"

_Crap, I don't have long. _

Ana sprinted from the garden to the garage, then dashed up the stairs to her bedroom. She reached the top step and shut the door behind her, her heart beating fast. She didn't even bother to turn on the lights, opting to see by the hanging Christmas lights that threw the edges of the room into shadow.

She turned to find the phone number, but then it was like someone had unplugged the cable connecting her brain and her body, because Ana Steele froze dead on the spot. Christian Grey was sitting on her bed, holding her address book.

_Shit._

Xxx

_Thank you for your input on the Christian/Ana POV subject! I think the next chapter will have some of his thoughts in it, so I hope you'll enjoy that. This chapter was a lot of fun to write. _

_Margeaux Kavanagh is named after a French friend of mine who is incredibly brave and also kind of a bitch. I love her very much. _

_-Vi_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Christian Grey. On Ana's bed. _System failure, does not compute_.

He was too large for the room, to masculine for her frilly quilt, too attractive to be staring at her like that. Ana just gaped at him.

He was all angles and blunt edges under a halo of dark copper hair. He was dressed like he had come from work, his tie loose around his neck and his top buttons undone. Christ, he was dead sexy.

Of course, this _was _work for Christian, she reminded herself. Best not too get carried away. But she couldn't deny how good he looked as they sized each other up.

"You don't have many friends, Anastasia," Christian said, a note of dry amusement in his voice as he held up her address book with a little mocking smile. The spell of his good looks vaporized as irritation flared in her chest, drowning out almost every other feeling.

"How did you get in here?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"You have an alarmingly lax security system," he murmured thoughtfully, and then he added, "No pun intended, of course."

Ana's mouth fell open. Actually open, like in the movies.

"You broke into my room, went through my stuff, and now you're making a pun about it?" Ana said, incredulous.

"You don't need to tell me that I'm an ass, Ana. I already know."

Ana shook her head.

"Actually, you're exactly the person I wanted to see," she said breathlessly, and she took a step closer to him. It was nice to have full control over her limbs again. The shock was wearing off, and Ana felt a surge of energy. They didn't have much time.

"I confess that's not the reaction I was expecting, given the circumstances," Christian said, his eyebrows raising a fraction of an inch. She had the impression that he was a bit surprised at the way this had played out. His eyes flicked up and down her body for a moment, before settling again on her eyes. He looked so serious.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, Christian."

"So you do remember me. I was worried you might have forgotten. It's been quite a long time, Anastasia," he said, drawing out the syllables of her full name, and damn if it wasn't hot as hell.

"It hasn't been long enough for me to forget you," she said lamely.

"I haven't forgotten you, either," he murmured, putting his hands in his pockets and looking at her from under furrowed brows.

"Then why did you drop off the face of the earth when my dad died?" Ana said, surprising herself. Why had she said that? Of all the times to bring up Ray's death, this was certainly not it. Christian seemed just as taken aback as she was with the abrupt turn the conversation.

"Ana, I-"

But she cut him off, shaking her head at herself as much as him.

"Look, it doesn't matter. You're here for business, right?" She growled.

Christian's eyes narrowed. He looked frustrated.

"Yes, I guess you could say that," he said flatly.

"Then let's go, we don't have much time. Kate is after me and she'll be here any minute. Is your car in the garage? She's gonna see it, come on, we have to go right now. I'll be your collateral or whatever," she said, and Christian frowned.

"You're agreeing to the deal? Just like that? You haven't even asked me any questions."

_Well, wasn't that what he wanted?_

Ana didn't answer him, her mind was working furiously as she ran her gaze around the room. What could she grab in 30 seconds? How would they dodge Kate?

She was surprised when Christian stepped up to her, putting his hands on either side of her arms and giving her a gentle squeeze. It occurred to Ana that Christian could lift her off the ground this way, if he had a mind to. And she did feel like floating.

His gaze trapped hers, and the heat from his hands felt like it could melt every bone in her body. His firm grasp stilled her panicked squirming, and she felt herself grow still and calm.

"Ana- relax. I didn't drive my car here. My bike is hidden near the road. We can talk later," he said in low tones.

"Later?" she said dizzily.

Ana thought her heart might stop. Jesus, he smelled as good as he looked. She wanted to lean into his arms and press herself against him. And he was so warm. But she shrugged out of his grasp instead. He frowned at her again.

Ana had finally processed what he had said, and a bubble of amusement bloomed in her chest. She didn't mean to giggle, but she couldn't help it.

"What could possibly be funny about this?" Christian snapped, running a hand through his hair. He seemed to be struggling to keep up with her.

"You rode a bike here?" Ana said, picturing Christian pedaling down the freeway in a helmet and one of those reflective vests. The thought was so absurd. Christian narrowed his eyes. She had displeased him.

"No, I rode my _motorcycle_," he growled.

"Jeez, you and Ethan," she said, shaking her head. Christian's opened his mouth, his expression icy, but just then she heard Kate.

"Ana!" she called, and Ana could hear her panic. Well, now she understood why. Christian Grey was trying to kidnap her.

Ana tore her gaze away from Christian and called, "I'm fine, Kate! I'm just grabbing some more clothes."

"I'm coming up," Kate declared. Ana ran to the door and locked it, turning to look at Christian in panic. Kate could not come in here. Christian's eyes were wide, but was she crazy or did he seem just a little amused?

Ana stuttered, "No, don't come up. I'm- I'm changing!"

Kate's footsteps stopped. "Why?" She asked, suspiciously.

"I spilled tea on my shirt," Ana said, surprised and pleased with herself for how natural that blatant lie had sounded. Maybe she had a future in espionage after all. _Ha. Not likely. _

"Ana, I've held your hair back as you vomited. I've given you stitches. I've stabbed people. I think I can handle seeing you shirtless," Kate said flatly.

"Really, I'm fine. I'll meet you back at the house," Ana insisted as she pressed herself against her door. Christian was staring at her with that same little smile tugging on his lips. _Asshole. _

"I'll wait here," Kate said, pointedly.

Christian walked closer to Ana and leaned in, his arm braced against the door above her head. They were inches apart, and Ana's heartbeat skittered. She was suddenly very conscious of how soft his lips looked and the hint of stubble on his chin. She was glad she was leaning against the door because she was having one of those weak in the knees things. _Jeez, how many other cliches am I going to experience tonight?_

"Ana, go with Kate," Christian whispered, his lips just next to her ear sending little tingles down her neck. Her breathing hitched. "She won't let up. Come back when she falls asleep."

"You have to swear to me that you won't hurt my family," Ana said, uneasily. "Swear on…on Ray's life. Swear or I won't leave and Kate will come in here."

Ana turned her face up to look right into his eyes. Christian was clenching his jaw, hard. She could see the twitch in his jaw and he shut his eyes.

"Jesus, Ana," he said, evidently in some kind of pain. His eyes flashed open and he was giving her that look again- like he wanted to consume her. "I'm not here to hurt your family. I'll wait here, for Christ's sake, go."

"You're going to wait in my room?" she whispered, skeptically, and Christian leaned his forehead against the door and groaned in apparent frustration, right next to her head. His hair brushed her nose.

"Maybe I'll take a nap," he whispered, recovering his original stance. His eyes trailed down her neck and over her body with that same consuming look on his face. She whacked his shoulder and he looked up, apparently taken aback. What did he expect, blatantly staring at her boobs like that? She guessed that Christian Grey wasn't used to being denied.

"Don't mess up my books," Ana growled, angry and meaning it.

Christian smiled at her, a genuine smile that was so disarming that her anger eased up. He gave a low chuckle, barely audible.

Then he said, "Ana, you have to take your shirt off."

"What?" Ana said, pulling back against the door.

"You told Kate you spilled tea on your shirt, remember? You need to put on a different one or else she'll know you were lying," he said smoothly, his face impassive.

"Oh. Right." Ana felt herself calm down. She eyed him warily. "Go over in the corner and face the wall. Don't you dare turn around," she threatened, pushing him away from her. Christian let himself be pushed.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he smirked, and walked over to the other side of the room to face the wall. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and when she saw that he was focused on that, she went to her dresser and tugged her t-shirt off and pulled another one on. Christian hadn't moved when she looked back up.

Kate called, "Ana, hurry up!"

"I'm coming!" Ana called. She turned to Christian, who was still facing the wall. "Behave yourself. I'll be back around midnight."

He turned and walked back over to her, and the way he walked was like a loosed arrow, straight and direct and fearless. There was something indecent about it. All smoke and fire, Christian stopped just an inch or two from Anna, smoldering down at her.

"If you're late, I will come in there and get you myself. That's a promise, Ana," he murmured. There was a hard edge to his voice, and she knew that he wasn't just saying that. She swallowed hard.

"You have my word," she whispered.

Christian opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else, but then Kate called again.

"Ana?" she said.

Ana turned and opened the door, grateful to get away from Christian. He was too intense, and she thought one more minute next in that tiny space might make her combust. He watched her go, his expression unfathomable.

"Coming Kate!" and then she shut the door and she was down the stairs, leaving Christian and his crazy sex appeal alone in her room. Great.

_-Christian._

Ana shut the door, and Christian fought the urge to wrench it open and drag her back up there again. It went against everything in him to let her walk out that door and back to those people. But Christian was playing a long game. He had been playing a long game with Anastasia Steele for years now, and he could wait until midnight. Probably.

But still, he could have strangled Katherine Kavanagh, and not for breaking Elliot's heart, either.

Christian glanced around Ana's room again. Christ, it was tiny. His head almost hit the ceiling. Roach had said the room was small, but he hadn't expected _this._ God damn Margeaux Kavanagh. How could she let her adopted daughter live above a garage? Did it even have heat in the winter? The thought made Christian's blood boil.

Still, it wasn't inhumane. Christian could see Ana's personality stamped all over it, and she had clearly made the best of a bad situation. It was filled with pillows and soft lights- all that girly shit. He remembered that Ana had always liked small quiet places, so maybe she liked it up here? The thought depressed him. He thought of her in the coat closet at the cabin, wrapped in a blanket reading. She had looked very happy.

Speaking of reading, there were her books. She had told him not to touch them. He smiled at the memory. She had looked _pissed_ at the idea of him alone with her stuff. It was adorable.

He moved over to her dresser instead. Hmmm, what did Ana wear? He opened the top drawer and shut it immediately. It was full of her underwear. Not that he didn't want to look, but somehow it felt like a violation to look at something like that. Plus, his dick had been excited enough by the smell of Ana's hair and her perfect boobs and those dark lashes, he didn't think he could handle imaging her in lingerie.

He quickly opened another drawer. T-shirts, blouses, pants, all the usual stuff. But it was of poor quality. Ana didn't have much disposable income, he guessed. That was fine. He had plenty of money.

He was surprised to discover a number of folded evening gowns in the bottom drawer, folded neatly. They looked like something Kate had bought for her. Taylor would have a fit seeing them cramped in there- even Christian knew you were supposed to hang evening wear. He guessed the dresses were from formal events.

He decided right there that he intended to see Ana in formal wear again. He remembered the last time he had seen her at the ball, how beautiful she had looked with her hair pulled up. She had been with that fucking photographer, and Ethan had been all smiles. Christian had left the event after fifteen minutes.

Jose, Christian understood, but Ethan he couldn't read. Either way, Christian was fairly sure one or both of them was going to end up punched at sometime in the near future. Christian shut the drawers just as his phone rang and Mia's face flashed on the screen. He couldn't ignore her forever.

"Hello, baby sister," Christian said dryly.

Mia's shrill voice was about eight decibels too loud when she shouted, "Christian Grey where the hell are you?"

"Take a wild guess," he said, his eyes casting about the room again.

"Oh my god, you actually went," she said, slightly awed.

Christian ignored that. "How can I help you, Mia?"

"Have you seen her?" she asked, breathless.

"Yes, in fact," he said.

"Is she with you now?"

"No," Christian said, irritated again that he'd let her go with Kate.

"Have you seen Ethan?"

Christian's irritation increased. Jesus, Mia sure knew how to push his buttons.

"No."

"Well, is Ana coming with you or not?" Mia demanded.

Christian glanced out the room's only window, and he could see Ana's figure disappearing inside the main house. Kate glared around into the darkness, her eyes training suspiciously on the room above the garage, before she went inside too.

_Hmmm. _

"I don't know. It seems likely," Christian said, distracted.

Another squeal. "Oh my god, another girl in the house! Thank the lord!"

"Mia, she's not a toy. Anyway, it's not settled yet. She and I need to talk some more about it," Christian said irritably. He sat down on Ana's thin mattress, feeling suddenly tired. Christ, how did she sleep on this thing? He suddenly understood all the pillows.

"I'm coming over," Mia said, and he could hear the sound of their garage door opening and a BMW roaring to life.

"Mia, _no,_ absolutely not," Christian growled.

"Toooo bad," she said in a sing-song voice. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Don't start the party without me."

"Mia-" Christian said, but then the line went dead.

Christian glanced out the window again, his eyes trained on Kate's window. Was Ana in there? He felt sure she wouldn't tell Kate about him- although, if he was honest, she had every reason to rat him out. She thought he was going to hurt her family.

"_You have to swear to me that you won't hurt my family. Swear on…on Ray's life._

The look of fear and anxiety on her face had made him feel like absolute scum. She just wanted to protect her people, and wasn't that what Christian himself was trying to do? He had to believe he was doing the right thing, but Ana thought he was only here to hurt her. Still, she had said she wanted to come with him, and she had agreed knowing next to nothing.

Come to think of it, how did she know about the proposal at all? Kate had vowed never to mention it to Ana, probably fearing this exact scenario. Kate's vow not to say anything was the whole reason Christian had come to Ana's bedroom in the first place, to talk to her and give her the choice to come to him herself. She had agreed, just like he knew she would.

But he didn't understand _why_ she would sacrifice herself for them- they didn't deserve it. He felt a twinge of jealousy. What he would give to get that kind of devotion and care from didn't help his "I-am-scum" feeling, but Christian had a pretty good feeling that she would do whatever he asked as long as she thought her family hung in the balance.

And, of course, they did.

God, he was the worst. He was a piece of shit. Was he only doing this because he wanted her, or was it because of Ray? He stood up again, his restless angst bottling up in Ana's tiny room that smelled like shampoo and old books. He was angry and turned on and confused, and he didn't like it. He turned his gaze out the window, seeking some escape in the cool evening air. He glanced at the main house and resumed hating himself as he imagined Ana trying to play it cool to Kate.

She was a shit liar, she always had been.

Christian saw the curtains draw across Kate's window at the same time that the front door opened and Ethan, gun in hand, stepped out onto the porch, his gaze locked on the garage window.

This was certainly turning out to be an interesting night.

Xx

_How do you feel about my Christian? How do you think he compares to book Christian? I feel that he's a bit different, somehow. Also, thank you so very much for the reviews! They made me so happy I wanted to cry._

_-V _


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four.**

_-Christian._

He waited behind the door, one hand on his gun and the other hanging tense next to his hip. The anticipation was delicious, and he enjoyed the moment of preparation as Ethan climbed the stairs.

The handle moved, Ethan strode into the room, eyes blazing, and Christian delivered a stunning blow to the back of his head with the butt of his gun. Ethan pitched forward, his arms catching him as he hit the ground. Ethan's gun skittered across the clapboard flooring.

He was up again in a second, glowering furiously at Christian. "What the hell is wrong with you, coming after Ana in the night?" he snarled, anger lighting up his face, but Christian could see that he was dazed.

"I just came to make sure she knew all her options," Christian said calmly, tucking his gun into his back pocket. He wasn't going to shoot him. Honestly, this was a bit too easy.

"After all, you Kavanaghs don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to taking care of Ana, so I came to check on her myself," Christian said, his eyes glancing around the room with disdain.

Then Christian narrowed his eyes, smiled maliciously, and murmured, "It's like you don't care about her at all."

Ethan lunged at him, and Christian dodged, grabbing Ethan's arm and yanking it savagely around so that it twisted back painfully. He pulled him into a headlock, and Ethan cried out.

Christian clapped a hand across Ethan's mouth and pulled a syringe out of his pocket with a practiced flick. Yanking off the protective top, Christian jabbed the shot into Ethan's bicep and pressed down on the plunger.

"What the fuck?" Ethan shouted, and Christian released him and watched as Ethan slowly began to lose his balance. He staggered back, and then Christian advanced, pushing hard on his shoulders so that he crashed down onto Ana's shitty mattress.

The whole thing took less than a minute.

"You poisoned me?" Ethan slurred, outraged as his head came to rest on one of Ana's little pillows.

"No," Christian murmured, kneeling down next to Ethan's head and yanking him up by his shirt so that they were inches from each other.

"It's just a sleeping draught. You're lucky my sister likes you so much. Next time, I won't fuck around, so don't try and come between me and what I want again, Ethan," Christian growled, letting go of his shirt with a noise of disgust. Ethan fell back against the pillow and struggled limply against the effects of the sleeping drug.

Christian groaned when he realized that he had violated his promise not to hurt Ana's family less than ten minutes after she left him.

True, he had held himself back and used a sleeping draught instead of violence to knock Ethan out, and he had to believe that little restraint was as close to mercy as he had to offer. But still. Ana would give him hell.

Well, it couldn't be helped. Ethan would have shot him, and everything depended on Christian getting Ana out of here tonight before she could change her mind and run away.

He needed her safe and, above all, far away from here.

Ethan's eyes closed just as the door opened. Mia strode in, wearing a ridiculous black catsuit and dark eyeliner. She took in the scene with one sweep of her gaze, then she turned to glower at Christian.

"Did you kill him?" She snapped, moving past him to put her hand gently on Ethan's exposed neck. She felt his beating pulse and he saw her visibly relax.

"Hi, Mia," Christian said lazily. She gave him another murderous glare.

"Jesus, how many of my would-be boyfriends are you going to try and murder?" Mia snapped, smoothing her pants out with a crisp movement of her manicured hands.

"I didn't try and murder him. He came at me with a gun," Christian said.

"So you settled for drugging him?"

"Well, I need to get out of here alive tonight, and something tells me if I murder Ethan Kavanagh, that might slow this whole process down a great deal."

Mia sighed. "This isn't much better. Christ, this is a mess, Christian. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's the best plan we've got, Mia."

She shook her head and looked longingly at Ethan, whose mouth had fallen open.

"Pretty, isn't he?" She said. She sat down next to Ethan and brushed the hair away from his eyes, giving him a wistful look.

"Mia, he's asleep. Don't be creepy," Christian said affectionately.

Mia scoffed. "You're one to talk. Waiting around in Ana's room? What are you, some kind of basic stalker? Was that syringe for her?"

"No, of course it wasn't for Ana," he said sharply. "She's in the main house. She's coming back at midnight."

Mia glanced down at her diamond watch. "That's in fifteen minutes,"

"We should move him," Christian said darkly. He could just imagine the fallout if Ana saw Ethan unconscious in her room. She would probably try and murder him.

Mia raised an eyebrow at him.

"She'll probably be a little startled if she walks into her room and finds _him_ here, knocked unconscious," Christian explained dryly.

Mia pursed her lips. "Well, she's not coming to us willingly either way, is she, so what does it matter if we scare her?"

He could read the anxiety in her face. She thought this was wrong, but she was going along with it because that's what Mia did.

Christian shook his head. "No, she came to me willingly. She said she would come with me before I'd even asked."

But that was starting to seem more and more unlikely by the minute. Christ, what if she didn't come? What if she had told Kate to send Ethan out here? What if she was miles away by now?

Mia's eyes widened at his obvious anger.

"Christian, it's fine, let's move him. It won't help to scare her, you're right," she said gravely.

"We'll put him in the backseat of the Range Rover downstairs," was all Christian said.

Ethan was heavy, but they did it. Christian slammed the door of the car shut with a satisfying thud and wiped his hands off, glaring around at the garage like it had personally offended him.

Christian was satisfied to note that, unless you looked directly into the car, Ethan was invisible. He felt confident that Ana wouldn't notice.

Christian glanced down at his watch, and he saw Mia do the same.

It was midnight. Christian took a step toward the door, his features a grim mask, but Mia put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Christian, calm down," Mia said evenly, giving him one of her disapproving looks. "You can't go charging into her house because she's not perfectly on time."

Christian shrugged her off, and growled, "I'm sick of waiting. I'm going after her."

"You can't just go charging in- Christian, wait!"

Christian was walking toward the door, grinding his teeth, furious. She had promised. Mia caught up to him, but Christian would not be deterred.

He growled, "I'm not leaving her with these people for one second more, Mia."

"But you could get shot!" Mia shouted, incredulous.

Christian's hand was on the door, and he wrenched it open, saying, "If she thought she could get away from me so easily-"

But his words died in his throat in the face of Ana Steele's wide blue eyes staring up at him in the stark light of the exterior garage lights. She was holding a grocery bag full of clothes. She was in her pajamas. She looked so afraid. He wasn't prepared for her to look so scared.

"Anastasia," Christian said quietly, the anger evaporating from his body. He heard Mia squeak behind him.

Ana shifted her bag to her other hand and blinked a few times, then shook her head as if to chastise herself.

"It's cold out here. Move out of the way, I want to come inside," she murmured, and she cast her eyes down to avoid his eyes.

Like a man possessed, Christian moved out of the way to let Ana pass. She came into the garage and walked wordlessly up the stairs to her bedroom.

-_Ana, earlier._

Ana looked at Kate's sleeping face and cried silently, brushing the tears out of her eyes with her fingers before they had a chance to fall. The room was dark, and Kate was just inches from her, warm and peaceful. The sleeping pill Ana had slipped in her tea had done the trick, but now Ana wished that it hadn't.

She wished that Kate's eyes would open and turn their piercing beams on her, see what she was about to do, and stop her. She wanted to curl up next to her friend and sister and never face the man waiting for her in her bedroom.

But it was 11:50, and Ana had to go. She had the impression that Christian was a man who took punctuality seriously. And he said he would come after her, and she was fairly certain he wasn't just saying that.

Ana kissed Kate's hand, scribbled a quick _"I love you Kate"_ on a sticky note, and stuck it on her door. Then she grabbed her little sac of belongings and crept quietly out of the room.

She paused by Ethan's room. The door was open and he wasn't in his bed. Normally, at this time of night, he was either asleep or quietly strumming his guitar, but she guessed that he was out cruising around on his motorcycle. He liked the evening hours the best.

She crossed the threshold of his room and inhaled his scent- something like cologne and safety. She would miss Ethan. She left him a sticky note and turned off the light, because he _always_ left it on when he went out.

The walk from the main house to the garage was cool and quiet. Autumn mists tickled her feet, and Ana wondered if she would ever come back to this place that had been her home for so long.

Kate wasn't sure the Kavanaghs would ever be able to pay the debt back. Ana was about to buy them more time, but that was it. Who knew how long the Greys would give the Kavanaghs to pay them, and after that, they wouldn't have a use for her anymore.

The Greys were childhood friends, surely they wouldn't kill her? The sound of her feet crunching on the gravel filled Ana's ears, and she shuddered. Ultimately, Ana didn't know how things would be once she left, but she took comfort in the fact that Christian seemed to like her.

And of course, she couldn't deny that she liked him. Except when she wanted to stab him. But he made her feel safe. And maybe he felt the same attraction to her that she felt to him. It was possible, after all. Stranger things had happened.

Ana reached the garage door and stood in the stark white light of the floodlights, biting her lip. Everything would be different after this. But Christian was kind to her. She was smart and capable. She could do this, right?

At that moment, Ana heard the sound of raised voices from inside the garage and stomping feet. They were coming toward the door, and suddenly Ana wanted to run far away. The urge filled her body like water, but it was like being in a nightmare- her feet were rooted to the ground as Christian's great body wrenched the garage door open.

"If she thought she could get away from me so easily-" he growled, his eyes blazing, his face a mask of determination and anger.

Like a startled animal holding still in hopes that the predator will overlook it, Ana froze on the spot, clutching her bag of clothes as Christian's eyes took her in with a look of surprise on his handsome features.

He said her name, her full name, with a note of disbelief in his tone.

Ana felt her cheeks redden, but not from attraction. No, Christian Grey had just done her a great favor. He had reminded her what she was to him- an acquisition, a merger. She signed a contract to him, and he expected her to fill it. That was all.

None of this was about her, she was not special, and it was better that she kept that in mind.

With this determination guiding her, Ana said, "It's cold out here. Move out of the way, I want to come inside."

She kept her eyes down because she would die before she let him see her humiliation. He obliged, and she walked quickly inside and up the stairs to her room. She was vaguely aware that there was a third person in the garage now, but Ana was too scared and numb to even think about it.

She glanced around her room and began shoving some of her books into a backpack, but it was so hard to pick. These volumes were her oldest friends, how could she leave any of them behind? She cradled a novel to her chest and put it tenderly back.

She heard footsteps behind her, but Ana ignored him even though she could feel his stare on her neck. She moved to her dresser and began shoving clothes into her bag.

"Don't, Ana. We have clothes for you at the house. You can leave those," he said gruffly.

"They're mine. I'll wear my own clothes," Ana said sharply.

Christian sighed, and she turned to look at him. He looked frustrated and a little abashed.

"I thought you weren't coming," he said quietly, shrugging his shoulders.

Ana shrugged, "I gave you my word. I'm here."

"So is Mia," Christian said, giving her a little grin which Ana didn't trust for a moment.

So Mia was the third person in the garage. Ana felt a little better. Mia and Ana had loved playing together back when Ana's father was alive, and it would be a comfort to have another girl to hang out with during her confinement.

"I couldn't keep her away from you. She's been wired up for the last week," Christian said when he noticed Ana's brightening expression. "She decorated your new room and everything, picked out your clothes and all that shit."

"That's very…kind of her," Ana said, meaning it.

"It's going to be fine, you know that, don't you?" Christian said, taking a step forward with a concerned look on his face.

Ana shook her head and lifted her grocery bag into her arms to put something physical between them. "It's okay, Christian. You don't have to be nice to me. I'm prepared to accept your deal, let's keep it at that."

"No, I don't want you to be scared of me," Christian growled, anger seeping into his voice.

"Then don't threaten my family," Ana whispered, glaring at him. The weight of the books in her backpack gave Ana the feeling of strength and solidity, and she dared to hold his gaze without looking away. Christian looked like he wanted to pounce on her.

It was Christian who finally broke the stare down. He looked away and ran a hair through his hair, scowling off into a corner.

"Grab your stuff. Meet me downstairs in five minutes," he snapped, stomping down the stairs.

Ana let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and grabbed some more items at random before she gave her bedroom one last look, unplugged her Christmas lights, and shut the door behind her.

The garage door was open now, and cold evening air seeped in from the murky blackness of the evening. A sleek black BMW idled in the driveway with its lights on. Christian was nowhere to be seen.

Mia, who had been leaning against the car, walked smoothly up to Ana and took the bag from her arms, smiling warmly.

"It's been a long time, Mia," Ana said. Mia put Ana's bags in the BMW's backseat and gave Ana a bone crunching hug.

"I know it's all fairly messed up, but I'm glad you're coming to stay with us. I've missed you," Mia said in her warm honeyed voice. She was so much taller than Ana remembered, but she was just as soft. The hug lasted several seconds, and when they pulled apart, Ana had tears in her eyes again.

"Hey, it'll be just fine," Mia said. "You won't even want to come home, trust me."

Ana brushed the tears away again, and looked over at the main house where Kate was sleeping.

"I just love them so much", Ana said, wrapping her arms around her torso.

Mia smiled sadly.

"Where's Christian?" Ana asked after she collected herself.

As if in answer to that question, they heard the sound of a motorcycle driving smoothly up the driveway. It pulled to a stop in front of her, and Ana raised a hand to shield her eyes from the blinding intensity of its headlight.

Christian dismounted and walked smoothly over to her. He looked at Ana's thin t-shirt and her thin shoes and frowned.

"Don't you have a coat?" he asked. Ana shook her head.

Christian exhaled sharply and shrugged his leather jacket off, draping it unceremoniously around her shoulders. Ana shifted her arms into the sleeves and zipped it up. It was warm. Christian looked like he wanted to punch something.

"Sorry," Ana muttered.

"Don't be. It's not your fault," Christian said tersely. "Christ, I need to get out of here before I lose my mind."

"She should ride with me," Mia said. Christian glowered at her. He took Ana's hand and half dragged her over to the waiting bike as if he couldn't leave fast enough. They reached it, and Christian turned abruptly around to look at her.

"You're sure about this?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Yes," Ana said.

"You get on my bike with me and there's no going back. I won't let you go, Anastasia," Christian vowed, eyes drilling into hers. Ana felt like she might faint.

"Can I call them?" she whispered. "I didn't get to say goodbye."

Christian reached down and stroked Ana's cheek, his thumb trailing from her cheek to the edge of her lip, his eyes smoldering. The gesture was so unexpected and tender that Ana thought she might burst into tears under the combined weight of her sadness and longing. But she didn't, she was equal to this.

"Yeah, you can call them," Christian said, holding her gaze. Ana nodded.

He grabbed a helmet from the back of the bike and put it over her head, muting the sounds of the evening air and the surrounding forest. Like his jacket, the helmet was too big and swamped her.

"Soon, I'll get one that's your size," he promised, the edge of a grin on his face.

Then he reached over to her, and without any warning, lifted her off her feet and set her gently down onto the back of his bike. Ana had never been on a motorcycle before and found the experience strange. Where did she hold on? Christian climbed on in front of her.

"Hold onto me," he said gruffly. She wrapped her arms around his torso as the engine roared to life, and Christian steered the bike around so that they were moving toward the open front gate. Mia was close behind them.

They passed the wall that had been the marker line between Ana's world and the rest of the world, and then they were out into the cool Washington air, speeding far away from her old life. Ana clutched Christian's torso and closed her eyes.

_I don't know about you, but I think four chapters at the Kavanagh's is pleeenty. I can kind of empathize with Christian's desire to get out of there, because I'm ready to get over to the Grey Mansion! OooooOoooo get excitedddddd._

_-V_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

As the bike pulled up to a massive set of iron gates, Ana was clenching her arms so tightly around Christian's torso that she thought he might protest. But he didn't say anything, just punched a code into an obliging keypad and drove his motorcycle smoothly through the opening gates.

A stone mansion sprawled gracefully across a hill overlooking the water. Artfully placed landscape lights lit up perfectly manicured gardens and trees, and the stone front of the house watched them imposingly.

Christian drove his bike up the hill to the very front of the house, which Ana felt was an unnecessarily conspicuous place to dismount. It was almost one in the morning.

Christian dismounted and wordlessly helped Ana off the bike. Because her limbs were stiff and cold, she didn't protest when Christian tucked her under his arm and walked her up the gravel driveway, his firm grip anchoring her to the present. She felt his heat seeping into her frozen limbs, and she shivered.

The front door opened, and a man in black trotted down the marble steps leading up to the mahogany door, murmuring something into an earpiece. Christian handed the man the keys to his bike, and to his credit, the man only gave Ana one curious glance before he drove off with the motorcycle, presumably to park it.

Mia drove up and joined them in front of the house. She gave Ana a friendly smile.

"I'm beat, let's go to bed," Mia said, yawning.

"Are you tired, Ana?" Christian said quietly, his eyes searching her face for any sign of fatigue.

"Um, not really," Ana muttered, eyeing the front door warily. Christian's eyes narrowed.

"You need sleep. Come," he said, tugging her up the steps and through the front door.

A wide staircase hugged one side of the foyer, and the gold hues on the walls and floors gave the space a warm and comfortable feel, even in the near darkness. It was warm, very comfortable, and tastefully decorated.

Past the staircase, Ana could see a living room with two story windows overlooking a glittering waterway. The boats in the harbor looked like her Christmas lights, and Ana let out a little gasp of pleasure.

Mia giggled. "It's a nicer view than your garage, huh?" she said.

Christian's arm tightened around Ana's shoulders. Ana managed a smile.

"Let's get you to bed," Christian said, and Ana blushed.

_Goodness, she didn't mind the sound of that at all. _

Mia leading the way, they walked up the sweeping staircase and down a long hallway lit with soft sconces on the wall. Ana had a moment of indecision while looking at the plush white carpet- shouldn't she take her shoes off? She almost laughed at herself. Of all the things to worry about, she was fixating on shoes? Christian gave her an inquisitive glance, but she just shook her head.

Mia stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway and opened it to reveal a cream colored bed covered in pillows lit up by soft lights, and curtains cozying up against wide windows with ivory trim. There was a little bench pressed against the window that looked to be expressly made for reading.

"Do you like it?" Mia asked. Ana pulled her into a tight hug, and Mia let out a little pleased sigh, wrapping her arms around her.

"It's beautiful, I love it. Mia, thank you," Ana whispered, kissing Mia's cheek.

Behind them, Christian coughed. He looked uncomfortable with his hands shoved in his pockets and his expression unfathomable.

"My room is just next door. Let me know if you need anything. And sleep in tomorrow, okay?" Mia said warmly. Ana nodded, and Mia left the room with a little flourish, giving Ana a look over her shoulder that Ana couldn't understand.

Christian turned his gaze to Ana, and she felt a warm heat pooling in the pit of her stomach. They were alone again, and there it was, that same attraction that made her want to leap at him and combust. His eyes were flaring up in the low light, and she could see him clenching his fists. He was either furious, or powerfully turned on. Possibly both.

Christian took a step forward, and Ana instinctively moved to meet him, and the attraction hung in the air between them like a tangible thing. The bed behind them was looking more and more attractive by the second.

Christian clenched his jaw and said stiffly, "I hope you will be very comfortable here."

His tone was so stiff that Ana felt like a punctured balloon. She _had_ felt the tension, there was no way she was imaging it.

"Gee, thanks, Christian," Ana said shortly. Christian sighed, evidently annoyed.

"Taylor will take care of your things. There are clothes for you in the dresser," he said.

"Take care of my things? What does that mean?" Ana said, eyes narrowing.

"He'll wash your clothes, of course," Christian said. "Although I'm not sure why you'd want them back."

"Some things have value even if they don't cost a lot."

"Everything has a cost, Ana. That's just life," he murmured. "There are consequences for every decision."

What? Now she was lost again. Christian was too confusing when she was this tired.

"Which room is yours?" Ana asked, choosing to ignore Christian's cryptic little remark.

He smiled faintly. "I don't live in the main house, Anastasia. I prefer to keep to myself."

A swell of disappointment assaulted Ana's frayed nerves, unnerving her. She was attracted to him, certainly, but he had a magnetic effect on her that was disarming. She wanted him around.

"Oh," was all she said, hoping her face wasn't transmitting her feelings as clearly as she felt them.

"Disappointed?" He whispered, giving her a slow sexy smile.

"I like to keep my enemies close," Ana whispered, but even she could tell that it wasn't very convincing.

"Well, I have recently acquired a very convincing reason to visit the main house more often," Christian murmured. "So don't worry, I won't be far from you."

"Great," Ana mumbled, hoping she sounded sarcastic.

"Oh, and one more thing," Christian said, pausing as he turned to go. "Our security system is considerably more advanced than the Kavanagh's. You would do well to remember that before you try anything foolish."

Then he walked smoothly out of the room.

XX

"So, welcome to the Grey household, Anastasia," Carrick said. He was seated across from her at his large desk in his comfortable study, and his well formed fingers traced circles on a manila folder full of her personal details. He was sizing her up with a calculating expression. It was about eight in the morning.

_So much for sleeping in. _

"Uh, glad to be here?" Ana said. Christian, leaning on the wall behind her chair, laughed dryly.

"Well, this certainly is an unusual circumstance, I'll admit that. But unusual circumstances call for unusual solutions, Anastasia," Carrick said crisply. Ana just stared at him.

"Let's discuss the agreement you're about to sign," Carrick said, opening the file. He took out the five page document that had Ana's stomach working in knots.

"You, Anastasia Steele," he began, his eyes skimming over the words on the page, "agree to remain under Gray control if and until the Kavanagh Syndicate finds the missing painting or the debt is paid back. Should you violate any of the terms of your confinement, the contract is nullified and a formal feud will be declared between our two families."

"What if they can't pay back the debt?"

Carrick put the paper down. "Then they forfeit any claim to you," he said flatly.

Ana flinched, and she heard Christian shift behind her.

"Oh," Ana said, feeling like the word didn't do justice to her anxiety.

"It's quite serious, Anastasia. I hope you understand that. However, I would also remind you that you're signing this willingly. We won't force you. If you choose to reject the agreement, Christian will drive you back to your…garage, and war will be declared within 24 hours."

The garage thing seemed to be a real sticking point for the Greys.

Ana leaned back in her chair, biting her lip. She glanced behind her to look at Christian, who was watching her with a cold fire in his eyes. He seemed to be imploring her, his mouth slightly open and a look of intense concentration on his face.

_Well, he's no help. _She turned back to Carrick.

"This contract, it's not legally enforceable," Ana stated quietly.

"We couldn't take you to court over it, no," Carrick said, frowning. "But you know that these agreements _are_ enforced, one way or another."

"And what are the terms of my confinement?" Ana asked, trying not to dwell on Carrick's threat.

"You live with us and do as we say. You have no un-approved contact with your family. You don't leave the compound without an escort or approval."

"Can I keep my job?"

Christian said firmly, "No. We'll provide for your needs."

Ana couldn't help the irritated breath that slipped through her lips. Christian walked up to the desk and leaned on it so that he faced her.

He said, "We need to keep an eye on you. We're not going to hurt you, Ana."

"No, just the people I care about," Ana snapped. Christian glowered at her and she glowered back.

Carrick, who looked faintly amused, interjected mildly before Christian could retort.

"We'll only hurt them if they don't fulfill the debt or if you don't do as we say, it's all fairly simple."

Ana and Christian hadn't broken their stare down, but his lips quirked up when Ana muttered, "Easier said than done."

XX

The door to Carrick's office shut, and Christian was right behind Ana as she stomped inelegantly down the hallway, his smooth stride making almost no noise as he effortlessly kept pace with her.

"That went well," he said, smirking.

"Why don't you want me to have a job?" Ana said, halting her angry walk and turning to face Christian, who looked back at her innocently.

"We don't want you out unsupervised for hours at a time, it would be a hassle. And the Kavanaghs might try and steal you back," he said, shrugging.

"You know they wouldn't do that. Margeaux is probably thrilled that I'm here, anyway," Ana snapped, and she felt a stab of pain. Her foster mother's words in the kitchen were still raw and painful, and it hurt to dump salt on them.

"Margeaux is a bitch, and she's not your problem anymore," Christian said dismissively, waving his hand in the air.

"She _is_ my problem, Christian. She's my guardian, and if she doesn't find that painting-"

"Don't worry about the painting, Ana, it will all be fine," Christian said soothingly.

Ana shook her head. "Well, it doesn't matter. But I should really call Kate. She's probably freaking out."

Christian frowned and crossed his arms.

"Christian, I need a phone," Ana said, extending her hand out. He looked at it but made no move, except to turn and resume walking down the hallway towards a wide set of open double doors.

"What, I can't call my sister?" she snapped, trotting after him.

"Kate makes everything…complicated," Christian said as they turned into the open doors into a wide, brightly lit room with a bookshelf spanning one side and wall to ceiling windows opening onto a view of the bay on the other. It was a breakfast room, and there were plates of food laid out on a buffet table next to an enormous marble fireplace.

Elliot Grey, looking very dashing in a grey suit, beamed up at her from behind his newspaper. Ana let out a little cry of delight.

"Hey there, tiger!" Elliot said, rising to his feet and coming over to give her a big hug. "I heard you were joining the family. Hope Christian here isn't giving you too much of a time."

Ana pursed her lips, and Elliot laughed. "Yeah, he can be a huge ass, right?"

"Thank you for that, Elliot," Christian said acidly.

"Ah, baby brother, good morning to you. So, you sold your soul to us, huh Ana?" Elliot said, and Ana's eyes widened at how accurate that sentence was. She quelled the bubble of anxiety and tried to keep her voice light and casual when she spoke.

"Well, no one can say I don't love my family now," she laughed. "I'm agreeing to live with _you_ indefinitely, so I must love them."

"I heard you and Christian squabbling down the hallway, not having a lover's spat already, are you?" He asked jokingly, seating himself back down at the breakfast table by the window.

She ignored that and moved over to the buffet table to grab some French toast. She didn't hear what Christian said in reply, but it sounded irritated. Elliot just laughed. Ana sat down across from Elliot and took a big bite of her French toast.

Christian remained standing. _Did the man ever sit down? _

"So, I couldn't help overhearing you reference the beautiful and terrible Katherine Kavanagh. How is my favorite ex these days?" Elliot said, taking a sip of his coffee with every appearance of perfect composure. Ana watched for any sign that he was putting on a brave face.

Elliot had it bad for Kate, everyone knew it. And everyone had seen her tell him to never talk to her again. He had called her every night for two weeks, but Kate never relented. Apparently, Elliot had been distraught, but he seemed perfectly fine now. Maybe he wasn't upset after all. He'd always been a bit of a drama queen.

"She's, uh, stressed," Ana said over a mouthful of French toast.

Elliot snorted, "I'll say. It's a shit storm. How did they let things get so bad over there?"

Ana put her fork down. "I don't actually know. They don't tell me about business things, so I'm generally pretty clueless."

"So you don't know much about the whole debacle with Jack Hyde?"

Ana shrugged. "I know he ran off with a good deal of our money and we put a capture or kill order out on him, but other than that…" Ana trailed off.

"That's about all there is. Rick Kavanagh was almost broke for a bit there. They bounced back when Ethan made some smart investments, not to mention the fact Kate is a god damn bouncer when it comes to playing the art field, but it was rough there for a while."

"I'd like to get my hands on Jack myself," Ana said quietly. Elliot's eyebrows raised and she felt Christian's gaze on her face. It seemed she had their attention.

"He made off with my all my mom's jewelry and my dad's entire painting collection. They were in one of the vaults that he sold. They were all that I had left of them, since everything else sold. I'll never see that stuff again. If I got my hands on Jack Hyde, I'd like to strangle him," Ana growled, stabbing a piece of melon with her fork.

A silence followed. Christian was deep in thought and Elliot looked surprised and impressed.

"God damn, Ana. You're a baller too. I thought maybe that gene skipped you or something, you were always so mild mannered," Elliot said.

"Well, you don't have a dad like Ray without acquiring a little fierceness," Ana said, smiling.

Ana's parents had died rather unremarkably in a car crash when Ana was ten. Ana was staying with Kate and Ethan the evening they died, and then she had never left them until now. How strange.

"They were good people," Elliot said.

Someone in the corner of the room sniffed, and Ana looked up to see a blonde woman in her early forties silently re-arranging the tea tray. She had tears in her eyes and a look of sympathy and compassion on her kindly face. Ana hadn't noticed her before, but she thought she recognized the woman from time spent at the cabin. She was the housekeeper, Ana remembered.

"Mrs. Jones, would you bring Ana a cup of tea?" Christian murmured, putting his hand on Ana's shoulder. His hand had a solid comforting warmth that helped dispel the coldness gripping Ana's heart.

"Certainly," the woman said, scurrying out of the room into the adjoining kitchen.

"Do you guys still have that cabin that we used to go to when we were kids?" Ana asked.

"In Michigan?" Christian asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah," Ana said wistfully. "That was a great place."

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, it's still there. Been years since we've visited though."

"Would you like to visit?" Christian said, his eyes finding hers.

"Well, I mean-" Ana said, backtracking. How could he put so much intensity into one question? She felt as if she were signing her life away all over again.

"If that's what you want, I will make it happen," Christian said, taking out his phone and typing something.

"Terrifyingly efficient, isn't he?" Elliot said, plopping one of his sausages on her plate with a wink. He stood up before she could reply, glancing down at his watch.

"Off to the negotiation?" Christian asked. Elliot grinned.

"Guess who's going to be there?"

Ana groaned. "Oh man, Kate."

Elliot flashed her a grin, tucked his newspaper under his arm and walked out of the room whistling a jaunty tune.

Christian watched him go with an affectionate smile on his face.

Ana said, "So what happens now? What do I do?"

"Nothing," Christian said, settling down in the chair Elliot had just vacated. "You just sit pretty while we hash things out with the Kavanagh clan."

"Well, tell me what you know, what's the plan, all that," Ana said breathlessly, pushing her plate of French toast out of the way so that she could lean forward on the table. Her hand brushed Christian's, and she drew back, startled. But Christian reached across and put his hand on top of hers, and they were still for a moment, just looking at each other.

The moment was broken when the woman from before, Mrs. Jones, set a cup of tea in front of Ana. Startled, she withdrew her hand from under his and inspected the tea bag with unnecessary interest, avoiding his gaze.

She was surprised to note that it was Twinnings. Had he known it was her favorite? Ana looked suspiciously at Christian.

"Something wrong with your tea?" he asked innocently.

"No, nothing's wrong with the _tea_," Ana said pointedly, dropping the bag into the warm water with a little plunk. "But tell me what the plan is. Where's Elliot going? To the Kavanagh house?"

Christian stood up, suddenly rising to his full height. Ana was struck by his size and strength. She could well imagine that he would be a frightening opponent to come across in combat, but he was all smiles for her.

"Come on," he said, briskly avoiding her question, "I'm taking you on a tour of the house."

"But you didn't-" Ana began.

"It's not an optional tour. If you resist, I'll just carry you," Christian said with a twinkle in his eyes which dazzled her into overlooking his blatant dodging of her questions.

_Hmmm, carried by Christian… not an entirely unappealing visual. _

Ana sighed and stood up to join him just as the woman from before, Gail, walked in with another plate of French toast in her hands. She looked expectantly at the two of them.

"Thank you Gail, but we're just leaving. I'm showing Anastasia the house," Christian said, a grin on his handsome face. Gail seemed just as taken aback as Ana felt.

"Well, enjoy yourselves," she said cheerfully, recovering with a level of professionalism Ana imagined she had cultivated during years working for a crime boss.

"I fully intend to," Christian murmured, glancing down at Ana.

No, not unappealing at all.

XX

_Sorry for the delay! I was visiting family. Successfully outlined the whole story, so I feel more confident in the direction I'm going. Would love to hear your thoughts/predictions for the next chapter. _

_-Vi_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

"You have a movie theater?" Ana asked, staring incredulously at the sumptuous interior of the Grey theater.

"Problem?" Christian asked, smirking.

Ana ran her hands along the soft velvet paneling on the walls, her eyes trailing from the gigantic projector screen to the rows of plush leather chairs to the popcorn machine. A black and white movie was playing. Casablanca. Ana flopped into one of the cushy leather recliners and let her head loll back luxuriantly.

"No, no problem. I guess I've just reached luxury saturation," Ana said, giggling. "The indoor pool and the sauna and the wine cellar were all fine and well, but an actual move theater?"

Christian smiled. "Elliot and Mia are crazy for movies. They used to watch a film every night."

Ana rolled onto her back with her legs propped up on the armrest, enjoying the feeling of resting her feet on a chair that probably cost more than she made in a month at the bookstore. Ana could see the crown moldings and the chandelier above her, just as opulent and tasteful as the rest of the house.

"Why didn't you join Mia and Elliot when they watched movies?" she asked.

"I prefer music to film," Christian responded, shrugging.

Ana sat up, an idea taking hold in her mind. "You have a music room, don't you?"

Christian nodded, eyeing her warily.

"Can I see it?"

Christian shook his head. "It's in my house."

"You have a house? Where?"

"It's on the property, a little ways off. I'm close enough to be at the main house in minutes, but far enough away that Elliot doesn't come knocking on my door every time he wants to play video games," Christian said, flashing her a boyish smile.

"Can I see it?"

Ana was suddenly dying to see the interior of Christian's secret world. What would it look like? She imagined a lair full of books and loose papers, something moody and intense to match his personality. But then, there was the issue of that charming smile he kept throwing her way, which seemed more suited to a brighter, airier space.

"No, you'd poke through all my stuff. Can't have you finding out _all_ my secrets, Anastasia," he murmured.

"You've seen my room and poked through all _my_ stuff," Ana countered.

"Well, you didn't have any secrets to hide in in your bedroom, if you could even call it that," Christian added acidly, leaning over the back of the recliner Ana was lounging across.

"You don't know that," Ana said, feigning offence, "I could be a serial killer. _You_ could be a serial killer too, for all I know. I mean, it's awfully suspicious you won't let me in your house."

Ana liked teasing Christian. It made her feel powerful to crack through his cultivated exterior.

He crossed his arms across the chair back and shook his head, but he was smiling at her affectionately. "Always so curious, Anastasia."  
"Is that a no?" Ana said, pouting.

Christian pursed his lips, surveying her in that lazy way of his. He seemed to be deliberating. He sat down in the recliner next to her. Ana's head, still propped against the armrest, was almost in his lap.

"Someday," Christian said slowly, toying with a strand of her hair. "Someday you can see my house. Not yet though. Are you comfortable sitting like that?"

"I'm enjoying myself. Margeaux was picky about her furniture. We could never sprawl out and get comfortable, you know? Everything was too fancy." Ana said, closing her eyes.

She hadn't slept well the night before, and then she'd been woken at seven AM by an unnaturally energetic Mia prodding her side and shoving a scone into her hands. Then it was off to a fun morning of signing a collateral contract. Now she was reclining in a plush leather movie theater seat and Christian Grey was playing with her hair. When had her life become so strange?

When Ana opened her eyes again, Christian was staring at her.

"What?" Ana asked.

"Didn't you ever think it was odd that the Kavanaghs made you live above the garage like a servant instead of having you in the main house?" Christian murmured.

Ana blinked. "Well, I mean, the house was for the Kavanaghs. And I liked my space, so it was fine."

Christian looked away. "It shouldn't have been like that."

"You don't live in the main house either," Ana pointed out.

"That's different. My family would be thrilled if I moved back in. I chose my exile, unlike you."

"I wasn't exiled, Christian," Ana said shortly. "Kate and Ethan were always nice to me. We ate dinner together every night, and even Margeaux and Rick had their moments. You just never saw that side of them."

Christian didn't seem to hear her.

"I can't believe they just let you go without a fight. If you were mine and someone took you away in the middle of the night, I'd lose my mind. Nothing could stop me from getting you back," Christian growled.

Ana's stomach clenched. The possession thing again. He seemed quite certain about his claim on her. Was this normal? Ana had no frame of reference, but she felt like it wasn't.

"People aren't objects to be fought over," Ana said, looking up at Christian's handsome face. "I went of my own free will. You didn't kidnap me."

"True, but they don't know that," Christian snapped. "They haven't heard anything from you until Elliot met with Kate today. For all the Kavanaghs knew, I snatched you out of your bed in the night."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Ana said as an unpleasant feeling settled in her chest. "But speaking of that, I really need to call Kate. You said I could."

As if on cue, Ana heard Christian's phone buzzing in his pocket. He shut his eyes for a second, recovering himself, and when he opened them again and put the phone to his ear, Ana could see a steely glint in his eyes. He was all business. He answered the call, his voice like ice.

"What?…no, that's unacceptable," Christian snapped, and Ana pitied who was on the receiving end of Christian's anger. "I want an armed escort…because you fucked it up last time, and I'm not letting this shipment go down the tank…it's on your head, Ross. Don't screw this up."

Then he hung up and was instantly dialing another number. His brisk, merciless business style had caught Ana unprepared. His comparatively gentle manner with her had made her forget what Christian really was- a businessman. He might place nice with her, but Christian was no angel.

"Elliot, we're going to have to expedite the convoy in Belgium… I'll tell him, but I don't see how it will help… Alright… And the negotiations?" Christian glanced down at Ana. "That's fine, just keep me updated…Nothing much. We're taking a tour of the house…You're an ass...Correct. I'll see you tonight."

Christian hung up and groaned. "I swear, Elliot is about the most frustrating man alive. I'll be happy when he and Kate get this sorted- they deserve each other."

Ana laughed. "That will be a cold day in hell. Tell me what Elliot said."

"Ana, no. You're staying out of this," Christian said firmly, tucking his phone back into his jacket pocket.

"No more talking. Come on," Christian said, reaching under Ana and scooping her up into his arms. Ana's head spun as she found herself suddenly five feet off the ground, cradled against Christian Grey's chest.

"What are you doing?" Ana asked with what she thought was an impressive amount of calm given the sudden and unexpected proximity to Christian's delicious smell.

"Finishing the tour," Christian said with a steely resolve in his voice.

"I can walk," Ana suggested.

"I'm perfectly aware of that," Christian said, "But it seems I won't allow it."

"What's forbidden next? Breathing?" Ana grumbled.

Fortunately, they didn't have far to go. Christian carried her down the hall into a library straight out of a Sherlock Holmes book. It was dark compared to the rest of the house; its only window was tall and narrow, and covered by a thick damask curtain, and the walls were lined with dark wood shelves

"Wow, it's gorgeous," Ana said.

That was an understatement. In truth, the library took her breath away. It was the smell that got her, a real book smell, the smell of binding glue, leather covers, and old pages. It didn't smell like a book store, it smelled like a legacy. Ana wanted to curl up in it and never leave.

"It's my mother's life work, really," Christian said, looking at the towering shelves as Ana pulled books gingerly off the shelves.

He continued, "The art business was never her interest, she's just in it because of my dad. She wanted to be an art curator, but now she collects books instead."

"Yeah, you Greys have something against women working," Ana muttered into the antique pages of a book.

Ana looked at the title page of an old volume of Moby Dick, and then Anna Karenina. "These are first editions," Ana gasped, gaping at Christian.

"We have a lot of disposable income," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Wow," Ana said, shaking her head. Christian was watching her, illuminated by a shaft of light from the window.

"Does all this seem ridiculous to you? This kind of spending?" he asked, gesturing up at the books towering above them, books worth millions of dollars.

Now it was Ana's turn to shrug. "I had this kind of luxury when my parents were around, but this tops anything we had. It's the greatest thing I've ever seen," Ana said reverently, staring at Christian.

"I want you to feel at home here, Anastasia," Christian said simply, gesturing to the books as if to offer them to her.

"Are you sure? I might never leave," Ana giggled, clutching a copy of Jane Eyre to her heart. She wanted to kiss it. She wanted to kiss him. He gave her a faint smile, then walked over to a shelf and pulled out a thin volume with practiced ease. "The Prince" by Machiavelli.

"I've read this one over and over," Christian said. Ana walked over and took the book from his hands and inspected the worn cover. It wasn't a fancy book, just a worn paperback, but it had been opened and closed many times and the pages were marked with a thin but legible handwriting. Ana opened to a page at random and read the quotation underlined there.

"Since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between them, it is far safer to be feared than loved," she read, and looked up into Christian's eyes. He was watching her with a guarded expression, as if he thought she might bite him.

Ana glanced at the cover of the book, it was image was of a young nobleman holding a dagger.

She looked back up at Christian and asked, "How many people have died because of your family?"

Christian didn't flinch.

"I don't know. A handful, I would say," he said, not looking away from her gaze.

"Does that bother you?" Ana whispered, gently shutting "The Prince".

Christian crossed over to her and took it from her limp grasp. He was concentrated on her, focused like his whole universe was centered right there in that room and she was the axis around which everything spun.

"People die all the time, Ana."

"You have a fairly relaxed conscience, I guess," Ana said, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice as she glanced past Christian to the narrow window.

"I can't afford to have an active one. If I thought that what I was doing was wrong, I wouldn't be able to live with myself," Christian said matter of factly. "As it is, I have a nice life and everything I want. I don't want to give that up for the sake of some hypothetical question."

He was being deliberately blunt and hurtful. He wanted her to understand how he viewed the world, how he viewed her. She could feel it in the way he was looking at her. He wanted to make her afraid. Well, she wasn't afraid. She was angry.

"You might think differently if someone in your family died," she said, and watched as the words hit Christian like a cold wind.

"Christ, Ana, I'm sorry. I didn't think-"

But Ana cut him off, her words coming out in an upset tumble of noise. "No, it's okay. I know. You dropped out of my life when my they, um, passed, so I can't really expect- …god, why am I thinking about this so much today?"

She cursed Christian Grey and his beautiful library for making her so damn _homesick. _She had forgotten to miss her parents in the drone of everyday life with the Kavanaghs. It had seemed like such a faraway thing, and she had let it recede to the back of her mind because ignoring it was easier than facing it.

But now that she was in a new situation, with her peace of mind threatened by this beautiful asshole in front of her, it was flooding through the breaks in her defenses, and she was unprepared.

Christian was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her, and she couldn't bear it for a second longer. She wanted to launch herself at him, and a heartbeat more and she would have done it because she could see that he was tensed to meet her halfway, and this thing between them was clawing a hole in her chest that she needed him to fill.

At that moment, the door to the library swung open and the man from before walked in. Ana groaned.

"Taylor," snapped Christian, eyes blazing, his hand still half reaching out to Ana, "This is _not_ the time."

Taylor didn't flinch. "There's news. We've tracked him down."

Taylor's gaze flicked between Christian and Ana, and she could tell that he was being deliberately vague to keep Ana out of the loop. She felt her anger spike to a new level, but Christian was training his keen eyes on Taylor, even though the attraction between them still cackled like electricity.

Christian's voice was tense when he asked, "They have him?"

"No, not yet," Taylor said, his eyes flicking back over to Ana.

_Who were they talking about?_

Christian's eyes had never left Ana's, and now he came up to her, and Ana's body sang with desire as he put both his hands on either side of her face and cradled her head like something incredibly precious.

"I have to go. _Stay_," he implored her.

"Where would I go, Christian?" Ana murmured. He was leaving. He was leaving and nothing was resolved.

"I'll be back late tonight. Just stick with me, okay?" Christian murmured. Ana's words had apparently deserted her, so she just nodded. Christian hesitated, his mouth parting slightly, and then he kissed her forehead before striding out of the room after Taylor.

XX

_-Elliot_

He couldn't help it- he flashed Kate his biggest Elliot Grey smile. Girls had been practically throwing themselves on him for that smile since he was 16, and its appeal had only grown as he had aged. It was 30% of his charm, aside from his dashing good looks, his flirtatious banter, and his knack for sex.

But Kate fucking Kavanagh seemed to be the one woman alive who could piss him off as much as she turned him on, and damnit if she wasn't immune to the panty dropping effects of his pearly whites. She just raised an eyebrow and looked out the window like she wasn't turned on as hell.

Which was bullshit, by the way, because he knew firsthand what that smile did to Kate. He had been doing it to her over and over again for almost a year now. Sure, they weren't an item anymore and she made him sneak around like a fucking high schooler with a curfew, but it was better than nothing. He didn't get why their _whatever_ was such a deadly secret, but he was prepared to play ball with her if it meant keeping her around.

Elliot liked power, and Kate was positively dripping with it. She was standing across the room from him, alternately listening to her father talk and glaring at Elliot with murder in her crystalline eyes. She was pissed, too angry for pretty much anything but violence and fucking, and lucky for her, Elliot was a champ at both.

But the Ana thing was a bit much for Kate, and even Elliot could see why. Christian taking Ana would be enough to piss anyone off, even without the attachment between Kate and Ana. Those two were thicker than thieves, way closer than any two women Elliot knew.

Not to mention Ethan, currently standing stoically next to Kate like a goddamn pillar, had been like a big brother to Ana since day one. Elliot tried to imagine what he would feel like if the Kavanaghs took Mia, and his not inconsiderable ability to empathize evaporated as his anger boiled up. Yeah, no one was going to take Mia away in the night. She was annoying as hell, but she was his kid sister, so he understood where Ethan was coming from.

Elliot glanced over at Ethan's impassive face, not bothering to hide his staring. Christian had it out for Ethan, but Elliot didn't get it. He was an alright guy, quick with a joke and a handgun, even if Mia did want to marry him.

But Christian was from a different planet, he didn't think like that. He was old school principled. Which brought Elliot to the subject of Ana. Fucking Anastasia Steel. This whole thing seemed to revolve around her and Christian somehow.

A lost girl from childhood suddenly thrust back into Christian's life, and boom, a perfect opportunity for him to protect someone and make up for past mistakes. It was like Christian's wet dream. He was way into that broody shit. Ana was too good for him.

Elliot, on the other hand, was staring at Kate's boobs as twitchy thoughts invaded his mind. Kate's fantastic boobs. Oh shit, the boobs and the babe were approaching, her shoes clacking against the floor as Ethan and her father left the paneled meeting room.

"Don't talk to me, Elliot," Kate snapped the minute they were alone. Elliot's eyes widened at this unprovoked attack. Hell, she had come up to him.

"Hi Kate," Elliot said dryly. Elliot wanted to reach out and run his hands through her mane of hair, and he would have in any other circumstance, but Kate looked like she was Not In The Mood for his shenanigans.

"I'm serious, just fuck off, Elliot," Kate said, poking his chest with one of her perfectly manicured fingers. She'd been calm enough during the meeting, but it seemed now that they were alone she was going to let him have it. Not that Elliot minded, in fact, he'd be perfectly happy to let her have it right back. Hard. Repeatedly.

"Jesus, baby, easy there," Elliot said.

"I'm not your damn baby, Elliot," she growled. "How could you do this to me? To Ana?"

"I wasn't down with the Ana thing, doll. That was Christian's deal," Elliot said, putting his hands up in front of him as if to physically push Kate's anger out of his space.

"The sick fuck. He snuck into her room in the night! And he drugged Ethan! Who does that?" she fumed.

Elliot shrugged. "Ask him yourself."

"I noticed he didn't show his face here today, the coward," Kate fumed.

Elliot thought it was better not to mention the real reason Christian hadn't come to the negotiation- namely, Ana herself. God forbid he leave her unsupervised for an hour.

But all he said was, "Maybe he thought that his being here would unleash the famous Katherine hurricane of fury and violence, which is as charming as it is productive."

Kate wasn't listening. "You have to protect Ana from him, Elliot."

Elliot snorted, "Uh, I think protecting Ana is Christian's whole deal right now. The chick is safer with us than she ever was with you, although what you two are so determined to protect her from is beyond me."

The whole lockdown thing was bullshit. It wasn't as if the Kavanaghs could break in and steal Ana back. Not that they would, Elliot thought. Sure, Rick Kavanagh had half-assed his indignation at Ana's middle of the night rendezvous, but it was obvious he was happy enough to re-negotiate now that there was collateral and incentive. Ana had done him a favor.

"I was protecting her from your family," Kate hissed, taking a step toward him. Christ, she smelled good.

"Ana came willingly, Kate. We didn't force her to go. Not that anyone seems to remember that," Elliot said.

"She thought your family would gun us down in the street if she didn't go. What kind of choice is that?" Kate snapped.

Elliot put a hand to his chin and stroked his stubble. Kate had a hard time resisting a little five o' clock shadow, so he had let it grow out just to mess with her. But he had to admit, Kate had a point. It was a choice, but not a real one, and Christian had known that when he made Ana the offer.

"Hmmm," was all he said.

Kate's eyes were watering and her lower lip was trembling even as she glared at him. Christ, she was going to cry. But, in true Kate fashion, she kept talking anyway.

"Yeah, so just shut up, Elliot. I have enough to worry about without-"

Elliot pulled her into his arms. Fuck her bullshit, Kate was his girl. He could handle hooking up secretly if that's what she wanted, but he wasn't going to let her unravel in front of him if he could make it better. And he _could_ make it better if she would just quit her moaning and agree to be with him.

The minute he got his arms around her, she burst into tears.

"You're. Such. A. Jerk," Kate sobbed into his chest, clinging to him. Elliot just held her. Sometimes that was all you could do with Kate.

"Ana's fine. You're fine, baby," Elliot murmured, kissing the top of her hair again and again.

"It's all on me now," Kate sniffed, turning her pretty face up to his. "Don't you see that?"

"You won't let anyone help you. Baby, would you reconsider-"

"I'm not marrying you, Elliot, for the last time," Kate said, but she was smiling a bit now, and he knew that the worst had passed.

Admittedly, Elliot had been drunk as a lord at the time of his proposal to Kate, but he had meant every fucking word of that offer, and Kate had known it, so she had bolted, literally bolted, out of his arms and into the night. She didn't speak to him for a few weeks, and then she had deemed it acceptable to start a regimen of secretly hooking up with him and hating herself. It was all a bit much, honestly.

But Elliot knew he was going to get a ring on her finger one of these days, he just had to wait until Hurricane Katherine was downgraded to Tropical Storm Kate. Even if it took years. He was a patient fucker.

"Fine, don't marry me, but quit fucking with my head," he murmured evenly. "I get it, the commitment thing is not your scene. That's cool, I can accept that. Just don't push me away because you're scared. It's not working. You can't give me up, and I sure as hell haven't given up on you."

"I can't be... what you want," Kate said.

"We were so good, Kate. So good, and then you ran. Lord knows I don't mind the breakup sex, but it's getting old. I want more of you," Elliot said, and he didn't look away, even though he knew this kind of talk made Kate want to sink into the ground and disappear.

"What do you want?" Kate asked, her voice tiny.

"Let me take you out on an actual date," Elliot said. "And after that, let's fuck."

Kate giggled and Elliot almost lost his shit. Kate could be a ball of fury one second and a giggling schoolgirl the next. She wasn't a woman, she was walking whiplash. He loved it.

"Shouldn't we wait until this thing with Ana and Christian blows over?" She asked.

"Uh," Elliot said, thinking that the Ana and Christian thing was not likely to blow over any time soon if Christian had his way. "I think we should just go for it."

"What, now?" She said, eyes widening.

Elliot grinned. "We can go to that ridiculous restaurant you like. I'll buy you one of those fruity mixed drinks and we'll eat tiny food on giant plates. I'll wear that jacket you like. C'mon, doll," Elliot said, giving her a little squeeze.

Kate was hesitating. "I don't know, babe-"

When he heard her call him babe, Elliot lost it. It had been so long.

His mouth crashed down on hers, and then he was lifting her up off the ground, kissing her recklessly, as if they weren't in a negotiation suite in a Seattle high rise with millions of dollars and lives at stake. He didn't care that she was complicated as hell and a massive pain in the ass, because she was ferocious and complicated and he loved her so much.

He kissed her like a sixteen year old boy, which, if he was honest, was how she made him feel.

Kate's arms went around his neck and she groaned against his mouth, "Fine, I'll go on a date with you."

Elliot pulled away and grinned his megawatt smile at her, and he knew with absolute certainty that all those years of practicing his smile had been nothing but a warm up for the main act in his arms.

Now, all he had to do was hold onto her. Somehow.

XX

_Lil subplot action with Kate and Elliot there, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Love those two together. _

_-V_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_-Christian_

Seated in the back of the limo, Christian Grey leaned his head against the seat and took several deep breaths as the gates of his family's estate closed behind him. Taylor hit the accelerator, and Christian let the force of the speed push him back into the leather.

He wished he were driving himself to join Elliot at the negotiation with the Kavanaghs. He could certainly use an exercise in self-control and German engineering, but he needed Taylor to drive him because he needed to make some calls, and he also didn't much fancy the idea of Elliot crammed on the back of his motorcycle if he drove himself.

Still, even making the calls he needed to seemed to be above his level of concentration just then. Christian closed his eyes and cursed under his breath, tugging his tie loose from around his neck. Etiquette be damned.

He thought again of Ana's face, small and defiant in the low light of the library as she questioned him coolly about murder and death. The image seemed burned into his retinas. Just her face, her eyes, her lips…

Christ, he needed some distance from her. Distance to think, to pull himself together. Being around her was like being unraveled at the seams from the inside out. He said things he wouldn't have said to anyone else, did things he wasn't supposed to do. He had been seconds away from kissing her. Seconds.

The lapse in control floored him. Before the deal had gone through, he had promised himself that if he gave in and let himself have her, he would keep it professional. He would put distance between them and resist their insane chemistry.

He thought he could manage to have her around and not lose his mind, but obviously he had seriously overestimated his self control, because the minute he got her through those gates. he was baring his damn soul to her like a little lost kid. He had played with her hair like they were just an ordinary couple, laughing and having a nice time.

Christ, it was all so fucked up.

But it had been good, so good. Too good. He was too attached, that much was obvious. What was less obvious was what to do about it. She'd been there for all of a day and he was already thinking of their future together, of her moving in with him and, god help him, _beyond_ that. The idea that she would eventually leave him when the collateral contract expired was completely unacceptable to him. Fucking terrifying.

Christian clenched his fist in his pocket and repeated a mantra to himself: _Anastasia Steel is not yours. _

He was going to have to learn to keep his shit together and his dick in his pants where Ana was concerned, because otherwise, he was going to seriously mess up this business deal with the Kavanaghs, among other things.

His phone rang. Roach's voice rasped through the speaker, a voice of reason and mercilessly professionalism from across the ocean.

"We're closing in on him," Roach said, forgoing any unnecessary explanation or pleasantries.

Christian sat up slightly in his chair. "Tell me what you know."

"Hyde ducked out after the Kavanagh heist, and he did a pretty decent job dropping off the map. Nothing I couldn't handle, but he was clearly motivated to lay low for a while. Lucky for him Rick Kavanagh's connections with his French people were on the rocks at the time. This was before the Claytons were installed, so Rick couldn't get enough manpower to go after him."

"And Hyde got away," Christian growled.

"Well, only as far as Belgium. He's hiding out in the middle of nowhere, some farming town. We think he's still there."

"And the goods?"  
Roach gave an uncomfortable cough. "That's a bit more complicated. It's likely that he hasn't sold all of it yet. If he put it straight to market in one big push someone would notice."

"Then where the hell is it?" Christian snarled. His fists clenched.

Roach sounded contrite when he said, "We don't know. Wherever Hyde put it, there isn't much of a digital record. It's likely in a private vault, or-"

"So someone needs to get him to talk," Christian said, relishing the thought of making Hyde squeal. An outlet of violence would be particularly satisfying given his current state of keyed up sexual tension.

"When will you be here?" Roach asked, not at all taken aback by Christian's violent mood. The question made Christian pause.

The thought of actually getting on a plane, leaving the country, and going on living his old life suddenly floored Christian by the sheer implausibility of it. Of course he couldn't jet off to Belgium. He'd had Ana for less than 24 hours, for Christ's sake, he wasn't going to jet off and leave her, especially when the Kavanaghs were not entirely on board with the whole thing. She was still at risk.

Cursing this new complication, Christian wondered how he had ever thought for a minute that he could have Ana in his life and have nothing change.

"I can't come," Christian said flatly. There was a charged pause.

"What do you mean?" Roach asked, a hint of incredulity in his otherwise toneless voice.

"I'm not coming. Have Ross do it."

"Alright," Roach said warily. "She won't be mind."

Another silence. Christian could hear the concern in his voice when Roach added, "Everything okay over there with the Kavanagh deal?"

"It's fine," Christian snapped.

Perfectly fine aside from the fact that his thoughts were consumed by a particularly fetching dream from his childhood and he was losing control of himself to feelings which were twice as strong as he had once thought, yeah, everything was just fucking peachy.

As he hung up on Roach, all Christian was really certain about was the fact that he couldn't even stay away from Ana long enough to go pummel Hyde into beef jerky, no matter how much he wanted to. He couldn't do his job with her around, and that was unacceptable.

What _could_ he do? Dictate his orders to his second in command from abroad? Dick around about some stupid fucking painting in Seattle? This was kid stuff. Christian was the away team in the Grey scheme of things. This whole painting was minor compared to the grand plan.

The alternative and much simpler plan was to forfeit the debt, hand Ana over, and go on with his life as if his infatuation with her had never happened. He would go to Belgium, destroy Hyde, have sex with someone beautiful and dead on the inside, and regret Ana for the rest of his life.

That was just not going to happen.

Mother would be home soon, mother, with her bracing straightforwardness and her knack for cutting through bullshit with one glance of her keen eyes. And thank god, because Christian Grey desperately needed a reality check.

So why couldn't he stifle the glee he thought of as he imagined the day when he could return Ana's parents' things to her?

His phone rang again. Elliot. Bracing, moronic Elliot. Christian could have laughed with relief.

"Hello, dickhead," Christian said affectionately. "I'm almost there."

"Dude, don't bother," Elliot said breezily. Christian could hear the sound of silverware on plates in the background and the hum of jazz music.

"Are you…at a restaurant?" Christian asked.

"Yeah, she's in the bathroom so I don't have long. I'm with Kate tonight, so you don't need to meet me."

"Elliot-" Christian said in warning. Elliot and Kate only meant more work for him, even if they were happy together.

"Don't be a dick, just cover for me to dad," Elliot said coolly.

"Are you two insane? You could get us killed," Christian snapped. "What, are you just going to sneak into her bedroom for Rick and Margeaux to find you fucking like high schoolers? I'm sure that would do wonders for our tenuous arrangement."

"You're one to talk about tenuous arrangements, Christian. How is fair Anastasia this evening? As fetching as ever?" Elliot simpered, using a tone of voice that he knew irritated him.

Christian bristled. "Ana and I aren't sleeping together. I, unlike you,have managed to keep business and my private life separate."

_Barely. _

Elliot snorted. "There's no difference between the two, Christian. You may as well do what you want. Here comes Kate. Look, go get laid or something, and try not to think too much. "

Then Elliot hung up, leaving Christian alone with the dial tone and his own flaring irritation.

Christian probably could have forgiven Elliot's stupidity if it wasn't for the fact that he had something of a point. Nothing in their world ever seemed to be truly black and white, which never failed to piss Christian off. He hated uncertainty. All he wanted was a straightforward life with clearly defined boundaries. And he wanted Anastasia Steele solidly within _his_ boundaries, and nowhere else. Was that too much to ask?

Christian barked at Taylor to turn around since he no longer had to retrieve his wayward brother from the Kavanagh negotiation. Why the man insisted on being chauffeured around like a little old lady was beyond him, but questioning Elliot was generally a fruitless task, so he hadn't asked.

"Where to, sir?" Taylor asked, the car now idling in an obliging parking lot.

That was a good question. The immediate answer was to get right back to Anastasia Steel, or, in an ideal world, to get Anastasia Steel on her back and in his arms. Probably not such a good idea, though, in light of his earlier thoughts about keeping some distance.

Elliot thought it wasn't a big deal to merge business and pleasure, but Christian knew that if Ana got too close, he would probably lose control.

"Home," Christian said, for lack of any better idea.

Whether or not "home" meant his house or at Anastasia Steele's feet was another matter entirely.

XXX

_-Anastasia_

Because she wasn't sure exactly what she was meant to do during the day to occupy herself and Mia was still notably absent from the house, Ana had opted to spend her day in the library reading everything and anything she pleased.

This had seemed like an excellent and secluded place to hide from the family and their terrifyingly efficient staff, and Ana had been fairly pleased with herself for her clever hiding spot. That illusion had lasted until a friendly servant had brought her in a lunch tray around one that afternoon, effectively shattering all her notions of secrecy.

As she munched on the (admittedly delicious) sandwich, Ana wondered how anyone did anything in Grey Manor with the looming presences of servants and onlookers monitoring your every move and bringing you snacks all the time.

The snacks she could live with, but the constant supervision was going to get old if she was going to be here for any length of time. She had a pretty realistic idea of Christian's desire to keep an eye on her, and she realized belatedly that it had been stupid to imagine that he hadn't instructed the help to watch her.

He probably had that man Taylor watching her, too, a fact she found even more unsettling. She'd never had a bodyguard before, and she'd certainly never been an object of such interest to anyone in her life. She found the attention uncomfortable. She couldn't help casting her eyes furtively around the room for any hidden cameras, which only made her feel silly.

So she tried not to think of it and spent the day happily reading and day dreaming and doodling on a little pad of paper she found in a drawer.

Sometime between page 112 and 131 of _Pride and Prejudice, _Ana fell deeply and unexpectedly asleep, her head lolling against the side of the wingback armchair she favored. In the hours that she dozed, her half drunk mug of tea cooled, and the hands on the mahogany clock ticking next to the door inched steadily forward until exactly ten pm.

At the sound of the gentle bells of the clock pealing ten chimes, Ana woke up suddenly from a frightening dream that she forgot almost as soon as she became conscious of her surroundings.

Her heart pounded frantically in her chest, and Ana took several steadying breaths to calm down as her eyes scanned wildly around the room, trying to orient herself.

_I'm in the library at the Grey's. I'm alone. No one can hurt me,_ she thought to herself as she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes again. But sleep would not come back to her.

Glancing at her watch, Ana saw that it was getting late. She should probably go back to her room, but something stubborn and hard within her resisted the idea of shuffling off to bed. Was she a child with a curfew? No, of course not. And anyway, no one had ever technically given her any rules besides obeying Christian and not leaving the estate alone.

With no real plan in her mind, Ana stood up and put her book back on the shelf it came from, then tentatively opened the library door. Wall sconces sent warm light over the high ceilings, and the plush carpets muffled any sound her bare feet made on the ground.

Cautiously, Ana walked down the hallway, heading into the main wing of the house. She was a few feet away from the main foyer and the front door when she heard the sound of a commotion as a handful of servants hurried down the main staircase to open the front door.

Ana, unprepared for this onslaught of activity, ducked into an obliging sitting room next to the foyer and pressed her ear against the door and listened hard.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Grey," said someone, and other voices murmured entreaties to help with bags and the car out front.

"Good to be back, Gail," said a cool, sophisticated voice. There was the sound of heels clicking across the floor and the gentle jingle of jewelry, and then those musical sounds retreated up the stairs and out of earshot.

_Mrs. Grey. _

Ana was desperately curious to see what Christian's mother looked like, but she was way too afraid of the woman to actually step out an introduce herself. Anyway, Mrs. Grey had probably retired to clean up from whatever terrifying business procedure she had just returned from.

Another voice, Mia's this time, sparkled through the foyer.  
"Gail, will you bring me some dinner? We've been driving for hours, I'm famished," she said, and then she too clacked across the foyer and up the stairs after her mother.

The bustle of the staff organizing the unloading of the bags overtook the sound of anything else, so Ana pressed herself against the wall of the room she had hidden in and bit her lip, suddenly feeling a bit stupid for hiding. It was only Mia and Mrs. Grey, after all. But somehow, Ana felt as if she were a stranger intruding on their family, and she did not want to be seen by them.

She had vague memories of Mrs. Grey, nothing more than a glamorous blur in her young mind, but Ana thought that she had been kind. But then, she had thought Christian was kind, too. Kind people in this house usually had dark sides.

As the sound of servants dissipated, Ana had a wild idea. The front door was probably open. A quick scan of her memory recalled that the contract said she had to stay within the estate, but the gardens were part of the estate, right?

The idea of a night walk to clear her mind was too tempting to resist.

Opening the door, Ana peered out, saw that the coast was clear, and made a bolt for the front door. It opened easily, and then Ana was outside in the cool light of the moon. It was late in the evening, but it was still bright enough for Ana to see where she was going. She took in deep, greedy gulps of the night air, relishing the feel of the cold marble steps under her bare feet.

Spying some kind of garden trail to the right of the house that were dwarfed by beautiful trees, Ana set off in that direction, hell bent on taking a walk. The unexpected freedom after spending the day cloistered in the library was intoxicating. She wanted to laugh.

Instead, she took off down the path at a gallop, loving the feel of the cold air on her bare arms. It was good to let loose. She was exhausted, but this was fun. The path was winding but well kept, lined with leafy bushes and grasses illuminated by little garden lights.

She slowed down after a few minutes, and walked the next ten. It wasn't long before her feet were sore and she was freezing cold, but she just couldn't bring herself to go back to the house just yet.

And then, to her dismay, she found the trail inexplicably opening back onto the house she had just left. She could see a gray stone building with lights on inside, except, as she drew closer to it, she realized that it _wasn't_ the mansion at all. It was another house.

Christian's house? Ana felt her heart begin to pound in her chest again, the giddy feeling of freedom quickly replaced by heart palpitating excitement and fear. This was dangerous. She shouldn't be here. Christian had told her he didn't want her to see his house, and yet, here it was, like it had been waiting for her.

She drew closer. Upon closer inspection, Ana could see that it was more modern than the classical Grey Mansion. Christian's house had cleaner lines and sharper angles, but it had the Grey touch about it.

Ana was gaping at the front of it, and noted that it was quite large for just one man to live in alone. She walked quietly around to the side of the house and peered into the large windows lining the wall. A warm light diffused out from the window, spilling invitingly onto the grass at her feet.

The house was elevated so that the bottom of the floor to ceiling windows was about at Ana's shoulder height. Pressing herself up against the side of the house, her ankles tickled by perfectly manicured greenery, Ana could see clearly into the warm room without being highly visible.

She could see it was a bedroom, expertly styled in shades of white and tan. It was so pristine that Ana thought it must be a barely used guest bedroom, until a door opened on the other side of the room and Christian Grey himself stepped into the room wearing nothing but a towel.

Even through the pane of glass separating them, Ana felt the attraction to him stir in her again even stronger than before. His lack of clothing didn't help her pounding chest or her short ragged breaths. She could see every muscle on his beautiful body.

She had to put a hand against her mouth to stop her breath from fogging up the glass as she ogled him, because he was really a sight to behold. His hair still wet from a shower, his towel clung to his hips in a nonchalant way that suggested it might fall down at any moment. He looked edible.

But his expression, seen in this rare unguarded moment, was gloomy and tired as he sat down on the edge of his bed, facing the window to check his phone. He was less than a foot away from her now, and Ana held perfectly still so that he wouldn't see her. She wasn't sure what would happen if he saw her looking through his windows late at night, but she had an idea that he wouldn't be pleased about it.

So she held very, very still. Perfectly still, she thought, as Christian lingered at his phone, frowning and running a hand through his tousled wet hair. As he scrolled, he thoughtfully licked his lips, and Ana thought she would come undone right there.

But, luckily, he rose again, turning from the window to walk back to the bathroom on the opposite side of the room.

Probably because she was distracted by the image of Christian's broad back and naked shoulders, Ana was not prepared for the sound of the owl shrieking through the night air like a siren in her ears. Not even her hand across her mouth prevented Ana from letting out an answering scream of surprise. Her legs gave out beneath her and she sank down into the bushes under the window, but not before she saw Christian Grey whirl around and make direct eye contact with her, a look of stunned anger on his chiseled features.

In her anxiety and panic, only one thought ran clearly through Ana's head: _I am in so much trouble. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_-Christian_

Running a towel through his hair, Christian glanced at himself in his bathroom mirror, trying to imagine what he looked like to other people. He knew himself to be handsome, but aside from that he generally didn't think about it much. He thought of his body as an instrument, a means to an end, and whether that end was a woman or a job, his body had never let him down. That was that.

But now, he found himself surveying his face for whatever trait Ana seemed to search for so keenly when she looked at him. Those piercing eyes of hers always seemed to take all of him in, and for the first time, Christian honestly cared what she found when she looked at him.

But he found the self-scrutiny uncomfortable, so he wrapped his towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom, shaking his head at his stupidity. Ultimately, Christian didn't give a damn what anyone thought of him. Anyone but her. Which pissed him off.

Today had been a bad day. His mission to pick Elliot up abandoned, Christian had opted to have a session with Bastille in the gym. That had helped with his irritation at Elliot, but nothing else. Even after venting his caveman-like urges on his trainer, Christian was still left with more questions than answers and a headache throbbing in his head when he arrived back at the main house. A quick briefing with Taylor told him that Anastasia was holed up in the library, refusing all company and reading quietly, and that his mother and Mia would be home in a few hours.

However tempting it was to go and see Ana, Christian thought it would be better for him to leave her alone. He certainly needed some space, and the idea of being in a room alone with Anastasia was more tension than he needed, never mind the threat of having to explain anything to Mia or his mother when they returned.

So Christian walked the quarter mile to his house and took a shower, cooked himself some dinner, and sat down to watch a violent, senseless movie. But his heart wasn't in it, and it wasn't long before his thoughts were wandering from the mind-numbing violence in front of him to the upstairs library where Anastasia was probably still reading, not thinking of him at all.

Somehow, though, he doubted that. She felt the connection too, he was sure of it. Hell, it wasn't as if he had been guarded in his affection for her, so he doubted she could miss it even if she wasn't as intrinsically drawn to him as he was to her. He remembered how her mouth had parted when they had been inches from each other in the library, how she had leaned into him, eyes bright and wet, pleading for him.

Christian felt himself stiffen and groaned, clicking off the movie. There was nothing for it, he was either going to have to rub one out or take a very cold shower. The idea of submitting to his defeat at the hands of an imaginaryAnastasia Steele was more than Christian's bruised ego could take in one day, so he stood up and took his second shower of the evening.

The icy water was punishingly cold, but Christian willingly let it cascade down his back, feeling his emotions and his thoughts shrink into his mind and fade away in the face of such unpleasant physical sensation. It helped, but it sure as hell didn't feel good.

Once his libido calmed down, he turned the water off, stepped out, and began looking at himself in the mirror. What a shit day.

The towel wrapped securely against Christian's torso, he walked into his bedroom and sat down on the edge of his bed. His phone pinged a new message from his bedside table, and Christian scanned through the spreadsheet of information Hyde sent over from Belgium. Everything over there was going to plan, it seemed.

He sent a text to Elliot, then flipped through the day's headlines. Nothing was interesting. He had a horrible fear that nothing would ever be as interesting as she was. Disgusted with his own melancholy and his disobedient thoughts, Christian tossed his phone onto his pillow and stood up to go put on his boxers when two things happened at once.

He heard the loud, plaintive hoot of an owl, followed immediately by a short, startled scream. A woman's scream. Christian turned before his mind had fully registered what had happened, and as his eyes scanned the darkness, he noticed a pair of startled blue eyes and a pale face gazing back at him before the face disappeared below the window ledge. But Christian knew immediately that it was Ana out there, watching him.

A very satisfying rage built in his chest at this violation of his privacy and their collateral agreement, and Christian barely had the presence of mind to throw on some pajama bottoms before he stormed out the front door and jogged to the side of the house to find Ana still collapsed in his landscaping, her knees tented in front of her behind an obliging fern.

She looked small and cold and vulnerable, but her eyes found his and she didn't flinch.

"What-" Christian began, but he stopped himself. She was so fucking unexpected, and he wasn't prepared to speak to her. He wasn't under control. He might say something he regretted. So, instead of demanding answers to the dozen questions buzzing in his mind, all he said was, "Come."

_-Ana_

"Come," Christian growled, extending his hand out to her. The single word was not a suggestion, and she had the impression that it was only through a considerable exertion of will that he was offering her his hand rather than yanking her up himself.

So, not interested in poking the hornet's nest, Ana took his hand and let Christian drag her out of the bush and into the house. She had a moment to appreciate the tasteful design of his foyer and living room before she found herself deposited unceremoniously on a big couch facing a fireplace with a fire burning inside.

Wordlessly, Christian handed her a knit blanket, scowling at her bare arms. Still watching him, Ana drew the blanket around her and tucked her feet under her body, trying to make herself small and unobserved as he faced the fire, his shirtless back to her.

Without turning, he said, "Why are you here?"

It felt like Ana's words had died in her chest. All she felt was a sense of wary wonderment. She was _in his house. _The whole place smelled like him, and he was _right_ in front of her. She was too stunned by the whole turn of events to even begin to explain her mad dash from the house and her glee at watching him when his defenses weren't up, and even if she tried, he seemed too angry to really listen.

That anger was obvious when he turned to glare at her, evidently fed up with her silence.

"Answer me," he said tersely.

Why was he so angry? A mean voice suggested that he didn't want to see her, that he was disappointed she was here. _Well, he shouldn't have brought me inside then_, she thought, because now she wouldn't leave until she had satisfied her curiosity.

Christian evidently mistook the defiant look in her eyes as a refusal to answer him, because he inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. "So help me god, Ana, if you were trying to run…"

That startled her into speech. "No, no, it wasn't- I wasn't running. I wouldn't do that," she babbled, putting her hands out in front of her.

Christian looked away. "Of course you're not. Because of your family," he growled, irritated. He looked disappointed. Had he _wanted_ her to run away? Rude.

Ana snapped, "What? Were you hoping to get ride of me?"

"Don't be stupid, Ana. You know that's not what I want," Christian said, and then he seemed a little surprised at himself. Then he looked irritated. Jesus, what was his deal?

"I was just curious," Ana offered, watching the spectacle of Christian's emotions run across his face before he got a hold on himself and arranged his features into an expression of business-like formality.

"You violated your contract and you put yourself in deliberate danger. Never mind that I forbade you from coming here in the first place," he said coolly.

Ana flushed. "I didn't violate my contract. I didn't leave the compound."

Christian glowered. "I said you weren't to come here."

"You said I could. Someday_,_" Ana snapped.

"Someday is not tonight, Anastasia," Christian barked.

"So I wanted to take a walk, sue me! I didn't know you lived over here," Ana insisted.

"You wanted to take a walk at," he glanced at the clock on the wall, "a quarter to midnight? Alone?"

Petulantly, Ana declared, "Yes, I did. Maybe I like night walks, Christian. You don't know anything about me."

He took a step toward her and opened his mouth to counter, but a phone on the wall next to them began to ring. Ana groaned. God, she hated these infernal phones. Christian picked it up, his face hard and angry.

"She's with me," Christian barked, glancing over at her. "She walked…yes, and pay better attention next time." Then he hung up.

"Was that Taylor?" she asked in the silence that followed.

"Yes," Christian said simply. He seemed calmer now that he had redirected some of his anger.

"It wasn't his fault," Ana said quietly.

Christian narrowed his eyes. "Of course it was. I instructed him to watch over you while I was gone. He should have stopped you."

Exasperated, Ana threw her hands up. "Stopped me from what?"

"From out unaccompanied in a war zone," Christian said coldly.

Ana raised an eyebrow. "Your garden is hardly a war zone."

"I don't have to explain myself, Ana. You will not leave the house unaccompanied again, do you understand?"

"No, I don't understand," Ana said hotly, rising to her feet as anger filled her up. Where did he get off, ordering her around with such a condescending tone? She wasn't a child, and she resented the implication that she had done something stupid just by going for a walk.

But Christian seemed immune to her anger and unimpressed by her added height. "Would you like me to enlighten you, Ana? I am _happy_ to clarify my expectations, since you seem so uncertain of them," he growled, a warning look in his eyes and a dangerous edge to his voice. He took a step toward her.

"Christian-" she began, trying to placate him.

Relentlessly, Christian growled, "First and foremost, don't disobey me. Second, don't put yourself in harm's way by walking around unaccompanied when the Kavanaghs and god knows who else could be lurking around. Third, don't spy on my house." His voice was cold as ice.

But her own anger gave her courage, and she declared, "This is ridiculous. You tell me nothing and then expect me to blindly follow your orders. You can't order me around like this, Christian!"

A look of dark amusement filtered into his furious expression. "I can. I went to great lengths to make sure that I could, Ana."

The retort she'd been preparing died in the back of her throat as stunned disbelief took the place of her anger. She glared at him in bewilderment.

Taking advantage of her silence, Christian continued in a lower voice, "People I care about have died because of what my family does, Anastasia. I won't let it happen to you. I'm not fucking around with your safety because you're the last person I would ever allow to get hurt, least of all because of me."

His eyes were focused on hers, and Ana felt slightly dizzy at his intensity. She had an easier time with his anger because it was so simple to react with indignation and spar back and forth. But his jaw clenching conviction halted her in her tracks.

"You didn't seem to care so much about other people dying as a result of your family when we talked about it in the library," Ana murmured, thinking of her parents.

A muscle in his cheek twitched, and he seemed to struggle to get the words out. "I was not… in control of myself then."

Sensing a weakness, or maybe even regret, Ana took a step forward, the heat from the fireplace warming her through and through.

She whispered, "Is that all you care about? Control?"

Running a hand through his hair, Christian looked away when he muttered, "I care about _you_, and honestly, not much else. Christ, you're driving me insane. You shouldn't have come here."

She felt like she'd been slapped. His words hadn't been angry, but they were sincere. Ana realized that, on some level, she had expected him to be just a little pleased to see her. She had thought they might have finally done something about their insane chemistry, but he seemed to be feeling as much aggravation as she was feeling desire. The rejection stung, especially since he still hadn't looked at her.

Well, she wasn't going to stick around only to be yelled at. She knew when to throw the towel in. Ana tossed the blanket that he'd tucked around her shoulders onto a nearby ottoman and said stiffly, "Fine, then I'll go."

Christian looked up at her, surprised. He took a step forward, but Ana was done letting their chemistry play havoc on her nerves, so she added stubbornly, "And I can walk back by myself, thank you."

She got a little pleasure out of the consternation on Christian's face as she turned away from him and walked to the door, heat burning her cheeks and ears. She only made it two steps before he reached her, his hand grabbing hers, turning her around so that she was suddenly face to face with him, his eyes blazing down.

They were inches apart, and her body ached for him with a white hot heat, despite her previous attempt to walk out and leave him in the dust. It wasn't that she hadn't meant to leave him- she had, and it wasn't that she wasn't furious at him- she was. But something about the look in his eyes, half apology half outrage, made all her doubts vanish, leaving her with nothing but concentrated desire and longing. She didn't think about it, she just kissed him, pressing her body against his with a need that was amplified by her anger and frustration.

He responded like someone had given him a jolt of electricity, his arms wrapping around her with a force that might have been painful if every nerve in her body wasn't buzzing with their shared chemistry. His mouth worked against hers and he lifted her up off the ground, and she could feel a blissful intoxication work into her blood. White heat pooled in the pit of her stomach as she wrapped her legs around him.

One hand worked its way into his hair, and she held onto him with a grip that surprised her. She wanted to hurt him, to make him feel something real and authentic that he couldn't deny or rationalize.

He tasted like mint. Toothpaste? Rational thought had yet again abandoned her as his tongue danced delicately in her mouth.

She felt herself pressed against the front door which she had been so set on storming out of moments before, the weight of his body pressing down on hers, holding her up even as his hands moved down her body to her lower back.

"You're driving me crazy," Christian groaned against her mouth, and it was only then that Ana became aware of the hardness between his legs pressed up against her. The sensation gave her a thrill of excitement and fear, and she shuddered, which made Christian groan again.

Abruptly, he pulled away from her, turning to face the stairs. Her feet connecting solidly with the ground, Ana fought the urge to reach out and touch him, but something held her back. She took deep steadying breaths, waiting for whatever came next.

His turning away this time didn't feel like a rejection. It seemed like he was wrestling with something in his mind, some desire or impulse that he was trying to control, much to Ana's vexation. She had been happy enough to be in his arms, and the warmth of his body still lingered on her skin. He looked distressed, like a little kid.

Hoping that he would say no, Ana murmured, "Do you want me to go?"

He looked at her then, a look of desperate confusion on his handsome face, and Ana felt a protective urge rise in her. She went to him and stroked his cheek, murmuring, "It's okay, don't worry."

The gesture seemed to do the trick. He wrapped her up in his arms, resting his head on the top of hers, breathing deeply. She couldn't see his face, but she wished she could. She wanted to understand what was going on inside his head just then, but Christian liked to keep his emotions locked up tight. _And me locked up tight_, she added dryly.

"Anastasia," he murmured, his lips moving against the crown of her head, and Ana turned her head up to look at him, hanging on whatever he would say next.

"Have you eaten today?" he asked, looking earnestly and seriously into her eyes.

Ana blinked. Out of sheer surprise, she answered honestly. "Yeah, I had some sandwiches."

"You look like you're getting sick," Christian continued, running a thumb across her cheek as his eyes moved hungrily over her face.

"Gee, thanks," Ana said flatly. So much for her vision of herself as a wanton sex goddess.

"Come, I'll get you some food."

Still tucked under his arm, he walked her into a modern kitchen whose bright white lights made the stainless steel appliances look frosty and cold. Ana shivered as Christian let her go and moved to the fridge. She sat gingerly down at the kitchen's island on a tall stool, bewildered by this turn of events.

"You cook?" Ana said, fascinated by the sight of Christian's naked back as he rooted around in his fridge.

Emerging with a Tupperware, he held it up and grinned at her. "No, I microwave."

He poured some soup into a bowl and microwaved it. Then he handed the steaming bowl to her with a theatrical flourish. It was tomato soup, and it was good.

"Did Mrs. Jones make this?" Ana asked as she slurped.

Christian grinned. "No, actually. Taylor did."

Ana put her spoon down. "_He_ cooks?"

Christian shrugged. "He's a man of many talents. Eat."

Ana quirked her mouth to one side, but at his pointed look, she ate another spoonful and rolled his eyes.

"You're a control freak, Christian Grey."

He frowned. "Only when it's called for."

"Cars, business, and soup?" Ana suggested.

He was unruffled by her tease. "I meant what I said before, Ana. I won't let you get hurt."

Exasperated, she plunked her spoon down onto her bowl. "And I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't understand you at all."

He hesitated, but then he said, "What do you want to know?"

Soup completely forgotten, Ana leaned forward, propping herself up on her elbows to scrutinize him more comfortably. "What happened to you after my parents died? We used to be friends and then you just disappeared. Now you're back in my life and you're…intense. Why? What happened?"

He grinned a little. "That's a pretty big question. I started my work for Grey Enterprises, and that took all of my energy for a long time. I don't half-ass anything, so perhaps that contributed to my, uh, intensity."

"What do you do, exactly?" Ana asked, eager to learn more now that he seemed to be in a communicative mood.

Christian shrugged. "Business. Ultimately, I ensure that Grey deals go through. If they don't go to plan, I apply strategic pressure until our goals are met."

"You use violence?" Ana asked breathlessly. Christian nodded, his expression wary.

Ana leaned back in her chair, thinking about that. So he was a businessman with a mercenary edge. So was Kate. So were her parents. Technically, he was exactly the type of person she'd known all her life. She thought she should probably be alarmed at the idea of Christian as a high class criminal, but she wasn't. Maybe it was because she knew the type, or that she had seen his steely edge come out in smaller instances and was prepared for the concept, but it didn't even alarm her. She wasn't afraid of him.

"Why did you ask for me for collateral?" Ana asked, not really expecting a straight answer.

Christian murmured, "I like you, Ana. I always have."

The blush that crossed her cheeks was the same color as the tomato soup cooling in front of her. The butterflies in her stomach made her giddy.

He continued, "I shouldn't have done it, but it made so much sense. I could bring you back in my life without the Kavanghs being able to interfere, and it would buy your family some time." He seemed to be trying to reassure himself as much as her. So he had doubts about her being here. Interesting.

"Wait," Ana said, startled at something he had said, "What do you mean about the Kavanaghs interfering?"

Christian's eyes widened, but just slightly. Choosing his words carefully, Christian said, "The Kavanaghs didn't want you to see us."

"Us?" Ana repeated.

"My family."

"Why?"

Still wary, he said, "They were your guardians. I assume they had their reasons."

Ana pushed the soup bowl away from her sharply, and the harsh sound of the ceramic on granite rang in the metallic room. "You're lying."

Christian shook his head. "I'm not lying."

"You're not telling me something, then."

Again, that infuriating shake of his head. "I can't explain it, Ana."

"You're trying to protect me, aren't you?" Ana said, indignant.

Christian sighed and looked up at the ceiling, but he wasn't angry when he replied, "I can't tell you. Would you consider trusting me on this?"

"You hold me for ransom, try and lock me in the house, and you never tell me anything. How could I trust you?" Ana said irritably.

His mouth twitched. "It's a collateral agreement, not a hostage situation, Ana."

She gave him a withering look. "You don't want me to trust you. You want me to obey you."

"Technically, you did agree to that," Christian countered mildly. That was true, of course, which only made her more irritated.

"I thought we were friends," Ana grumbled, looking away from him to glare at her almost empty soup bowl.

"Friends?" Christian said questioningly, brows furrowed. His expression darkened as he growled, "Friends is not what kissing you felt like."

Ana put her hands up in a gesture of exasperation. "I thought so too, until you pulled away. Seems like being just friends is all you can deal with right now."

A flinty expression crossed his face, and he narrowed his eyes. Then, in two long strides, he closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth against hers, hard. His hands wrapped around her waist and he nudged himself between her legs, pushing her against the edge of the table as Ana's center came in contact with the evidence of Christian's desire. His hands ran through her hair and she felt herself light up from the inside.

God, kissing him was good. All she wanted to do was kiss him forever.

Too soon, he pulled away and growled, "I don't want to be just friends, Ana."

Slightly out of breath and still a little dizzy, she whispered, "Well, what do you want, Christian?"

"You. I want you in my life and I don't care what it takes to keep you."

Ana opened her mouth to object to his simplistic line of thinking, but he kissed her again, his mouth hard and unyielding against her as his hands reached under her to lift her up onto the edge of the counter. With a bit of added height, she could wrap her arms around his neck and draw her to him, and at that moment, staying in Christian Grey's life was a very tempting idea indeed.

"Come to bed with me," Christian groaned against Ana's mouth, his hardness pressing into her center with a delicious friction.

"We can't fuck," Ana managed to mutter through the fog in her brain. "My family- I can't-"

His mouth came down on hers again and she abandoned all thought of duty or critical thought for a few moments until he pulled away to look at her, panting slightly.

"Okay, we won't fuck," he growled, but he wasn't angry, just focused. "But stay the night with me. In my bed. Don't run away."

Ana glanced out the window and thought of her family, thought of her duty to do what she could to help them. Was her attraction to Christian a betrayal? He was still holding her, and he was so warm and solid and comforting. She decided that she wouldn't sleep with him, she would draw the line at that. But she sure as hell wasn't going to leave him, even if he was confusing as hell.

So she nodded, and a triumphant grin lit Christian's face and he kissed her, softer this time, and he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her to the floor from the counter like she was something fragile and precious.

"Come," he said, taking her hand and giving her a grin. "I'll show you my room."

They walked out of the kitchen and up his stairs to a big door that he held gallantly open for her. She took one look at the pristine white bed, its sheets perfect and just _asking _to be rumpled and its beautiful view over the water, and knew that resisting Christian Grey was going to be more difficult than just deciding not to fuck him.

The smirk on his face told her that his thoughts were going in a similar direction, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Yes, she would sleep in his bed, but she would use all her willpower to resist him. Somehow. Probably.


End file.
